Trustworthy
by tess4aria
Summary: Under the influence of a curse, Harry reveals the truth of his upbringing to his Potions Professor. With his preconceptions of his most hated student falling down around him, how will Severus move forward? HPSS Mentor/Adoption fic. Please R&R!
1. A Delirious Night

_**Trustworthy**_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 1: A Delirius Night<strong>_

Dear Readers: I hope you enjoy this! My first SSHP work~Pairings are up in the air. Harry/Snape mentor/adoption fic! Overused premise-and I will be sacrificing Dumbly as a schemer as many others have done.

Please review to let me know how you like it! Thanks so much!

I do not own Harry Potter.

_**Please R&R~! Thanks so much!**_

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><p>o O o O o<p>

Severus Snape was awoken from his restless half-sleep by a high-pitched alarm he'd magicked to alert him whenever a student wandered to one of the areas under his jurisdiction past curfew. This particular alarm was linked to the astronomy tower, and as it was 2am, whoever had decided on a nighttime stroll was most definitely breaking curfew.

Snape's instant annoyance and anger gave way to a vague relief that he'd at least been woken from the awful nightmare that had been plaguing him, off and on, that evening. Though not the most horrifying or gory of his nighttime non-fantasies he regularly glimpsed, this one held a special place in his heart for being mortifying and unbearable, filling him with helplessness and guilt.

For once again, he had dreamed of that day in his fifth year…the day he'd called his truest and greatest friend, the only woman he'd ever loved, _that _word. And of course, it was always pleasant to see the sneering faces of a young Black and Potter again.

_Potter_. An evil smirk stole its way onto Severus' face as his annoyance at being woken stepped aside for anticipation as he imagined just what he would do to the Brat-who-lived if _he _were the one who had decided on a jaunt at this hour.

With a quick wave of his hand, Snape was decked in his usual black, flowing robes. Grabbing his wand, he applied a little extra hair-grease for effect, and flew from his quarters, following the quickest path up to the astronomy tower.

He smirked as he imagined various scenarios that might await him. No doubt the brat would be under his invisibility cloak, perhaps with his little fan club, deeming it their right to wander the castle halls at any hour if sleep evaded them. Or perhaps they were planning something more sinister-something they would, of course, see as a harmless prank? _Just as I thought. He's just like his damn father. Why Dumbledore insists on tormenting me by stubbornly suggesting otherwise escapes me._

He was now on the seventh floor, and he slowed his pace. Best to stay in the shadows, as was his specialty, for the greatest effect would be by taking the brat by surprise. Severus' lips quirked as he thought about it.

He rounded a corner, taking him outside, when he heard an odd noise. Snape froze to listen better. It wasn't what he had expected, he could definitely say. Rather than the hushed voices of scheming teenagers, or soft, sneering laughter at their own brilliance, he heard something that sounded not unlike an animal in pain.

He crept closer to the source of the noise and he heard the whimpers, still muffled, give way, occasionally, to soft, frantic whispers. They were coming from a dark area, a little bolthole beneath the winding stairs to higher levels of the tower. Stepping, himself, into the darkness but still out of sight, Severus peered around and froze.

Harry Potter. Harry _bloody _Boy-Who-LivedPotter, was rocking back and forth like someone on a closed ward at St. Mungos, his knees bunched up to his chest, and his hands variously clutching his own head and tearing at his impossibly messy mop of hair.

The boy's eyes were shut tight, and when he shifted slightly, Severus noticed how lost and despairing the expression on that face he despised was. And suddenly, the Potions master realized he no longer felt any pleasure at catching the boy after hours. His tormentor's son or not, the bloody bane of his last 6 years as a professor or not, the boy was clearly suffering from something. But what? A curse? A nightmare?

Slowly, Severus crept forward and crouched down before the boy. Harry didn't make any sign to show he had noticed his least favorite professor's presence, and so Snape took a breath and said, softly but firmly, "Potter."

The boy made no response. He just continued to whimper and hold his face, and then quickly shook his head back and forth before resuming his rocking motions.

"Potter! Potter, what's wrong? Wake up, blast you! Can you hear me?"

The boy seemed to hesitate for a moment before going back into his trance-like state. His breathing was speeding up, and Severus wondered if he were about to hyperventilate. A little roughly, Severus grabbed the boy's shoulders, vaguely wondering at how impossibly thin they were, and gave him a shake. "Potter!" He barked.

This, finally, got a response, but the response baffled Snape still further.

Harry flinched violently and cringed, pressing himself further into the dark crevice, and his arms moved up in a gesture as if to protect himself in a way that made Severus' stomach pinch and squirm painfully. Severus knew that posture. He knew it far too well. But why would the spoiled, pampered son of James Potter respond to a touch that way, regardless of how out of it he was?

Struggling to make his voice softer, he tried again. "Potter, I'm not going to hurt you, now will you look at me?"

Slowly, Harry moved his hands, and he hesitantly opened his eyes. Severus' heart dropped like a solid weight had been tossed into his gut. Potter had clearly dropped his glasses somewhere, for the green eyes the potions master always tried to ignore were suddenly very much in front of him, and far too wide and familiar for comfort.

But they were glassy, unseeing, and filled with an astonishing depth of fear and grief and hopelessness that he had never seen in Lily's eyes. And seeing them this way did the impossible, and rattled Severus to the core, stunning him into shocked silence. And then the boy, eying Severus warily, and still cringing and looking more like a little boy than a teenager of his apparent 16 years, began to talk. But his tone was soft, fearful and hesitant-the voice of someone much younger.

"I'm s-sorry, Uncle Vernon. I didn't mean to sleep so long. I know I need to get up and make breakfast, I just-I had a nightmare and-and-" Suddenly the soft fearful voice turned into frantic, terrified pleas. "No! Please! Please stop! I promise I'll be good! I won't touch the couch ever again! I'm-" Severus stared, aghast, as the boy he had thought he knew, though admittedly, he had tired not to, collapsed into himself in hysterical, wrenching sobs.

"P-Potter, what is the meaning of this?" He rasped, again moving a hand forward to touch the boy. Again, Potter shrank away and whimpered, pulling his knees more securely into his chest and closing his eyes. And then, he did something which nearly made Severus' heart stop. He turned around and leaned over, bearing his back to the professor, and said softly, hollowly, with the same creepily innocent voice of a young child, "Okay, I'm ready, Uncle Vernon."

It couldn't be. All this time he had assumed, with the way he was always so negligent with his homework, the way he talked back, the way he always seemed to dissemble and answer in half-truths or simply stubbornly refuse to answer questions…Severus had seen these behaviors as nothing deeper than the influence of his insufferable father's genes. But now, suddenly, he could see all of his preconceptions crashing to the ground. Harry Potter was an abused child. It seemed too incredible, and yet, Severus knew the signs too well to deny them.

And he was 16, dammit! How could this have gone on so long? But hadn't Dumbledore missed the signs with him, Severus Snape, as well? But this was different. This was his damn Boy-who-lived! Of course Dumbledore wouldn't give a damn for the greasy little Slytherin in comparison! But if that was the case, then why had it come to this for this boy, too?

And what had led to this-this attack of Potter's? Snape quickly cast a diagnostic spell and what he found was still more worrying. There was a trace of extremely dark magic on him, but it was concentrated entirely in his head, and seemed to be swirling and upsetting the order of the boy's thoughts.

The counter curses Severus tried did nothing, but the boy was clearly possessed of some ailment that was targeting his mind and memories. Casting another, more specific spell, Severus gasped in understanding. This was a mind curse that had an effect similar to that of the Draught of Eternal Dreams, and the boy was lost somewhere between reality and fantasy, experiencing dreams and memories as if they were as real as he. Or, clearly, he was experiencing his dreams as the only true reality at the moment…

And Severus knew the only way he might help the boy, and it wasn't with a counter curse or potion. No. He had no choice but to enter the boy's mind and help him sort things through. An incredibly invasive process, but it was the only way.

But how to get the boy calm enough to let him in? For such a thing to work, Potter needed to trust him, and he sure as hell didn't trust Severus Snape. Why would he? For the first time, Severus felt a sharp pang of guilt for how unfairly he had treated the boy since the day he'd met him. He had judged him for his father's sins and never spared a glance for the boy beneath the obnoxious messy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. He had truly misjudged him.

But each moment wasted could be devastating to the boy's sanity, and even the time waiting for Dumbledore, the only other accomplished Legilimens in the vicinity, might be too long. And so, Severus gritted his teeth and tried to make his voice as soft as possible, to do the impossible and get the boy to let him in. Even if it was far too late to forge a bond of trust, he had to. For Lily, he had to try.

"Po-Harry," Severus said, softly and as gently as he could. "Harry, it's okay. I'm not Uncle Vernon. He's not here. Can you turn around and look at me?"

Harry seemed to relax a small bit at the unfamiliarly soft tones and words, but then he shook his head back and forth.

"Harry. Harry, it's Professor Snape."

The boy froze, and his posture straightened. _Damn! I should have known that was the wrong thing to say!_

"Pro-professor?" Harry asked in a whisper, his tone suggesting disbelief.

"Yes. You're at Hogwarts, on the Astronomy tower. It seems you've been the target of a curse. If you'll just turn around, I can try to reverse the effects…"

Slowly, much to Severus' surprise, the boy spun around to face him. In the slight light of the potion master's wand, Severus could see the drying tear tracks on the boy's face, and the worried lip. And those eyes-those eyes he had never thought he'd see again, looking at him this way-not in hatred, but in confusion-were fixed on him.

"Professor…Snape?" He said softly, his words stilted.

"Yes, it's me," Severus hurriedly reassured him, for he could see the recognition in the boy's eyes wavering once again-the glassy look coming back.

"Harry, I promise you. Those people aren't here. I won't let them hurt you, now I need you to listen to me. I'm going to enter your mind, okay?"

But Harry was shaking his head again. "No…hurts…please don't make me go back again…I'll be a good boy. I won't be a freak anymore. I promise, aunt 'Tuney! I didn't mean it, honest!" And he was sobbing once again, shivering in the cold night air and looking utterly lost and small.

The sight snapped something within Severus and before he knew what he was doing, he was leaning forward and gently gathering the boy in his arms, pulling him protectively into his chest. Harry froze for an instant, but then melted in the warm, secure hold, and looked up hopefully at Severus' face. His eyes were glassy. He clearly didn't know what he was doing or seeing, but then he whispered, in still far too child-like a tone, "Is that you, Daddy?"

Severus stiffened and almost pushed him away, but then Harry spoke again. "You finally came! I've been waiting for you for a long time, Daddy…"

Severus was speechless, but then realized he couldn't find it in himself to destroy the boy's momentary reprieve from his horrific-seeming nightmares. And so, when suddenly the boy's skinny arms were wrapping insistently around the professor's neck, and the boy was sobbing and laughing into his shoulder, Severus found himself holding him more tightly to his chest, and hesitantly carding a hand through his hair.

Severus was frozen in a battle with his feelings. The boy was delirious, and it was his job, as a Professor, to see Potter through this safely, but what was this odd clenching pain in his chest? And then, he sluggishly thought of how good the boy's warmth felt against him, and he felt himself struggling to push down feelings he hadn't felt in over 15 years…

Finally, the boy calmed down and his breath seemed to regulate slightly, and Severus quickly transfigured a soft cushion for the boy to lean back against, and a blanket to wrap around him.

"Harry, you need to trust me, okay? I'm not going to hurt you, but this might be uncomfortable. Right now, it's hard to tell what is a dream and what isn't, right?"

Listlessly, Harry nodded.

After a curt nod, Severus continued. "I'm going to go in and show you reality and fiction. Can you be calm and let me in without pushing against me?"

Again, Harry nodded obediently, and yawned, his eyes half-lidded and said, "Sure, dad."

Severus flinched and cursed himself for taking advantage of the boy's delirium, but there was nothing to help it. He was inconsolable otherwise. Gently positioning the boy to look at him, Severus gently cupped the cheeks which were really not so much like James Potter's after all, in his hands. Looking into those half-glassy green eyes, he said firmly, "_Legilimens_!"

Torrents of images passed him, and emotions to accompany them. A child, looking to be no more than four years old, was being tossed into a dark, tiny space with mops and other assorted cleaning equipment. A tattered, huge shirt was draped over the shivering boy, who grasped at a pitiful, paper-thin blanket, pulling it to his chest for some semblance of comfort.

From behind, a monstrous, Walrus-looking man boomed, his tone and purple, mustached-face livid, "Next time you want to eat, you'll make sure not to burn our damn dinner! You miserable freak! Don't expect anything until I say so, you hear? And no _sniveling,_ brat, because you know you brought this on yourself! Your aunt and I give you a roof over your head, we give you more food than you deserve! You're an animal! Now stay there!"

With that, the man slammed the door closed and there was the distinct sound of a door locking. The little boy, shivering and biting his lip to keep from crying, curled up on a miserable-looking mattress with springs poking out and tried to sleep.

Severus, being a visitor in this particular memory, was able to step out of the dark, incredibly small enclosed space to take a better look at it from the outside. What he saw confirmed his suspicions. _A fucking cupboard. They kept him locked in a damn cupboard under the stairs of their sickeningly sterile house! _

Rage was fermenting, congealing, building within him. Oh, how he wished this were not just a memory so he could clout that damn Walrus! But this was not the time. Gently, Severus took this memory and pushed it back into the boy's mind, securing it with other memories of a horrific, neglected childhood.

One by one, scenes flashed by…a blond child, who, though clearly no older than 6, was not much smaller than a young killer whale, was howling and throwing a disgusting temper tantrum for only receiving 31 Christmas presents, while a little dark-haired child with broken glasses stood in the corner, opening a pitifully-wrapped gift to find a pair of holey, barf-colored socks. The boy sniffed and bit his lip, clearly trying to hide his disappointment. His efforts were of course wasted when the huge pig-boy waddled over, pointing his fat finger in Harry's face.

"Is that whacha got for Christmas, Scary Harry? Hah! That's cuz no one loves freaks! And you don't gotta mum or daddy neither! Hey freaky geeky, I'll make you a deal! You can ride my bicycle for one hour if you do me a favor!"

"Really?" Harry's tone was hesitant, but such hope flashed in his eyes that Severus could barely stand it. _I really don't want to see what's next…_

"Yeah!" The fat boy sneered. "All you hafta do first is clean me and my friends' shoes-with your tongue!"

Harry paled instantly.

"What's wrong? Thought ya'd be happy to have somethin' to eat! And don't ya eat garbage anyways?"

Severus turned to look at the parents' reactions, but the enormous father was reading his newspaper and throwing approving looks at his lard of a son, and Petunia _(she sure hasn't aged well_, Severus thought to himself_)_ ran over to the scene between the boys. For one instant, Severus wondered if she was actually going to do something somewhat decent and scold her brat (_Merlin knows he needs it_) but instead, she wrapped her bony arms around his fat neck and then glared at her horrified nephew. "You! Boy! Leave Dudders alone! He doesn't have to let you near his presents!"

"Yeah, boy! You should be grateful for what we gave you!" The Walrus added, chuckling to himself as if he'd just made a great joke.

Severus watched helplessly as the little memory-Harry held back his tears and turned to run into his cupboard. Once inside, he finally let out dry, wracking sobs as he clutched his blanket once again.

This and many other episodes flashed by. Though it seemed to be hours and days that Severus experienced the life his best friend's son had endured, it took, in fact, only moments in the real world. He increased his speed shuffling through as he came to Harry's older memories, feeling somewhat sickened at watching himself sneering at Harry in Potions class, or callously declaring his likeness to James…but the thoughts eventually began to settle themselves back in some semblance of order. Harry's brain was becoming less of a mass of jumbled thoughts and emotions and dreams and more of an organized library of his lifetime.

Finally, the most immediate memories fell into place near the surface of the boy's psyche, and Severus glimpsed a confrontation between Harry, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle on the 7th floor. Severus struggled with whether he should watch the memory through, and figure out what exactly happened, or go ahead and leave the boy's mind now that he was no longer in danger of going insane.

Severus, who valued privacy of one's thoughts to the extreme, was uncomfortably aware that he had just lived through and witnessed a large portion of all of Harry Potter's most secret, private thoughts and experiences. There was no way, if he realized how utterly his privacy had been invaded, that the boy would be honest with him…and yet, now that Severus knew the boy, he felt a strange sense of loss at that thought. He had truly understood nothing of the boy, and now…part of him wanted to get to know him. Yet that might not be possible now.

He decided to just watch this final scene to at least cement what happened, so that he could at least get back at whoever put the boy in this condition.

_Draco, Crabbe and Goyle left a room next to a statue of a one-eyed Witch and the door promptly vanished. They turned to walk down the hallway, when Crabbe stopped._

"_Ya hear something, Draco?" He grunted._

_Draco froze, and looked around nervously. "It's…probably just a ghoul or something. Let's get out of here."_

_They had only gone a few more steps when Crabbe spun around and shot a curse at the thin air behind him._

_The sound of a body collapsing stopped the three, and a foot materialized out of thin air._

"_Potter," Draco whispered. "It's Potter! He's wearing that invisibility cloak!"_

_Grinning evilly, Crabbe raced to the form and revealed a stunned Harry Potter._

_Color rose in Draco's cheeks. "Dammit, did he follow us?"_

"_What should we do?" Goyle asked._

"_Well, we should teach him a lesson, a'course," Crabbe smirked._

"_Let's just get going, Crabbe," Draco hissed. "He's already unconscious. He'll get in enough trouble anyway, once he's caught."_

_Crabbe scowled. "Come on. Don't be a softy, Draco. He's the Dark Lord's enemy! We have to do something!"_

"_And the Dark Lord doesn't want him harmed! So let's leave him alone!"_

"_He wants to KILL him. He wouldn't complain about him being harmed. Let's just try a little somethin…"_

_Draco looked at him warily. "Okay, well hurry it up, before someone sees."_

_Smirking, Crabbe pointed his wand at the prone figure and said "Confusus Mens!"_

_Though still unconscious, Harry began to move in his sleep, flinching and kicking. His face screwed up and he began to moan. _

"_Crabbe! That's a-that's an insanity spell! What are you doing?"_

"_Heh. He deserved it."_

"_No one deserves that! And…we're going to be expelled, idiot!"_

"_No one'll know! God, Draco. I thought you didn't care about this hell hole anymore. We're onto greater things, right? Get ahold a yerself!"_

_Draco was still staring at Harry's convulsing form, an odd look flashing through his eyes, as Crabbe dragged him backwards down the hallway._

_Harry was clearly beyond delirious when he woke, and began stumbling forward, holding to his head and whimpering…_

From that point, everything became fuzzy, and Severus withdrew from his mind to avoid the insanity flowing into and overtaking him as well. Already, he was feeling anxious.

Severus breathed harshly once he was back on solid ground, safe in the enclosed realm of his own messed-up world, feeling as though he'd aged 10 years from his time in Harry's head. He grimaced. Here was a boy who had been through more than he had as a child. Who had endured almost every kind of misfortune imaginable. Luckily, the boy seemed to have drifted off into a calm, even sleep now…and after running another diagnostic spell, Severus was relieved to find that the curse's effects had been corrected, and only exhaustion and some nerve damage remained.

Gently, Severus leaned forward and cradled the boy in his arms. Harry was far too light for his age, and now Severus knew why. He grimaced at the thought and again, horrible waves of red hot anger swept through him.

"Come on, Potter. Let's get you to the hospital wing," he muttered, and began to carry him back into the castle.

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><p>Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! Please remember to review! I really appreciate your feedback!<p>

Thanks again!

tess4aria


	2. Conversations

_**Chapter 2: Conversations**_

First of all, thank you so much for your reviews/favoritings/story alerts! They have really inspired me! Hope you continue to enjoy it! Thanks again!

Harry Potter belongs to JK.

**_Please R&R~! THANKS~ :D_**

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><p>o O o O o<p>

Severus made a slight detour to pick up Harry's invisibility cloak where it had been flung beside the One-eyed Witch statue, making a mental note to confiscate it unless someone could talk some sense into the dratted brat, and was hurrying down the corridor, boy and cloak in hand, when he ran smack dab into Draco Malfoy.

The blond boy looked nervous, and his eyes were bloodshot. He flinched when he recognized his professor.

"Well, well..._Mister_ Malfoy," Snape spat, and grabbed him roughly by the arm as he continued towards the hospital wing.

After struggling against the Professor's strong hold for a minute, Draco bit his lip and cried out "S-Sir! Listen, please! It's Potter! Potter was hit with a curse and he's-I don't like him but we have to help or-"

"And what, Mr. Malfoy," Snape drawled, "Do you think I am doing?"

Draco blinked, and then gaped. In his panic, he hadn't recognized the dark-haired figure in his tall professor's arms.

"P-Potter!"

"Yes, Potter," Snape sneered. "Do you mean to imply that you were the perpetrator of the attack on Mr. Potter?"

"What? Well, no, sir…"

"Well, if you don't know what caused his condition, then you will have to excuse me. I will, however, have to ask what, exactly, you are doing out of your dorm in the middle of the night…" Snape raised an eyebrow and pierced Draco with a penetrating stare.

The boy shuddered under the man's scrutiny, opening and shutting his mouth several times before managing "Well, that's…No, sir, it was…it was _Confusus Mens_, Professor! But I didn't do it, I swear!"

"So eager to sell your friends out, I see…" Snape said, but at the boy's sick expression he continued, somewhat more gently, "Your instincts to return were not...entirely inappropriate, Malfoy. Though I fault you for not coming to me immediately, seeing as that would have made things much less dangerous for our resident celebrity," he sneered, "your friend Crabbe is the true one at fault, is he not?"

"How-how did you-?"

"I have my ways," he answered with an enigmatic sneer. "Now back to your dorm, Malfoy. 20 points from Slytherin and Detention tomorrow at 7 for being out of bounds after curfew in the first place and not thinking to stop your cronies from attacking schoolmates, be they Potter or not."

"But sir!"

Snape stopped and leveled a glare at him. "Be aware, Mr. Malfoy, that had you not made this extra visit, I may have been far less lenient. Whatever our…associations…with Potter may be, casting a curse like that can land you in Azkaban, regardless of age! And rest assured that your friend Mr. Goyle, who I am informed accompanied you, will be dealing with harsher punishments. Cowards, after all, do not reflect well on Slytherin house. And Mr. Crabbe…well. Let's just say you should not envy him right now. Make sure to inform Mr. Goyle that he is to meet me in my office tomorrow night at 7 as well."

Draco gulped. "Yes, sir. Um, and Crabbe, sir?"

"Leave that imbecile to me," Snape bit out. "Now, if that is all, I would rather free myself of this burden," Snape jerked his head to indicate the sleeping boy on his chest.

"Uh…yeah…" Draco eyed him warily and began to step backwards. Then, seemingly struggling with himself, he blurted, "Is he going to be…I mean…Is Potter…"

"He will live. And he should be sane. I cannot say that would have been the case had I been any later. Get back to your dorm, Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."

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><p>o O o O o<p>

When they made it to the hospital wing, Snape gently deposited Harry on a hospital bed before rushing to Madame Pomfrey's chambers to alert her of their presence. A few minutes later, Madame Pomfrey stepped out, looking tired but alert. "Severus? What is it?"

"Poppy, I'm afraid we have a student who has been the target of a high-level dark curse. I managed to counter its most dangerous effects, but the victim is no doubt exhausted and needs to be made to rest for some time."

Poppy nodded, grabbing her notebook. Once she glimpsed Harry, she gasped. "Not again! Mr. Potter seems to find his way here more than any student I've ever known! Except, perhaps, for you, Severus," she added slyly.

"Hmph." Severus crossed his arms.

After running several quick diagnostics, she said, "Well, the nerve damage I can treat easily. Some dreamless sleep should help him once he wakes up to help him recover without dealing with residual effects of the curse. He is, after all, extremely worn-out, and a good long rest is most necessary for him right now." She paused. "Also, he is in dire need of a regiment of nutritive potions."

"Yes... I have come to suspect that our young Mr. Potter has suffered severe malnutrition in the past," Severus supplied softly.

Poppy blinked at the uncharacteristically soft way Severus referred to 'our young Mr. Potter,' but shook herself and replied, somewhat sadly, "I can see that. And it seems he has a slough of little injuries I never thought to scan him for before…bones that healed improperly, scars, bruises…Severus, you don't think?"

"I do. It seems our 'Savior' has not been the little pampered prince I thought he was." Severus spat the nickname, though this time his disgust didn't seem directed at the boy. Severus grimaced and kneaded his temples with his fists in frustration. "I can't believe I was so blind that I never suspected it. The boy has been abused, Poppy."

Poppy looked horrified, her suspicions confirmed. "The poor boy!" The healer stared at Harry and worried her lip, but at Severus' sudden sharp stare, she nodded and got to work.

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><p>o O o O o<p>

Severus wasn't sure why he stayed, but Poppy didn't question him, for which he was thankful. Was it guilt? Responsibility? His loyalty to the boy's mother? Or something else? Was it a combination of all of these factors?

Severus decided to push his infernal tendency to constantly question and analyze his actions to the back-burner and do, for once, what he felt like doing, whether there was a logical reason or not. For all he knew was each time he thought he might get up to leave, images of a little skeletal child getting kicked and locked in a cupboard kept returning to haunt him.

And so, for the next few hours, he dutifully sat beside his student and spelled potions into him as Poppy continued to check his progress. After Severus assured her Harry would be fine under his watch, Poppy nodded and slipped back into her chambers, demanding he alert her if they had need of her.

When they were left in silence, Severus' habit to question and interpret came back to bite him, and he found himself considering what exactly he was doing here, playing nurse-maid to the son of his school-hood tormentor.

At times, the potions master truly didn't understand why he had chosen to stay. After all, part of the reason he'd taken the boy to the hospital wing in the first place was so that Harry wouldn't know of Severus' part in any of this…but then, again, Severus just couldn't free himself from the images of a little, helpless boy forcing himself to accept the absurd 'Christmas present,' and many more of the innocent object of neglect and abuse…after seeing such horrific images, it eased something deep within him to see Harry sleeping somewhat peacefully now.

And it occurred to him, as he looked at the glasses-less face, that his nose wasn't Potter's…nor were his cheekbones. Really, his face was much more like his mother's…it was just his hair and glasses which gave off the illusion of his being a James Potter look-alike.

Harry shivered in his sleep, and his face scrunched up. Readying vials of medicinal potions, Severus waited for the boy to show more signs of a recurring nightmare. Then, when Severus was checking the stasis spells on his potions for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, Harry began to moan and then, suddenly, he bolted up, looking at Severus with terrified eyes. Severus found himself leaning forward to steady the boy and quickly spelled a calming draught into him. Harry's breathing soon calmed a bit, but he was still looking around frantically.

"Potter!" Harry didn't respond. "Potter, it's alright. It's just another nightmare!" Severus gently shook him by his shoulders and repeated himself once more.

Harry slowly looked up at him, and green locked with obsidian for a while before comprehension finally darkened the brilliant emerald eyes. Harry swallowed and then asked, raspily, "What…happened?"

"You were hit with a curse spell," Severus answered, relieved more than he could say that the boy was coherent enough to ask him about his condition.

"A curse…" Harry said, looking down at his hand.

"Yes. You have Mr. Crabbe to thank for it. Besides yourself, of course. Honestly Potter, sneaking out in the middle of the night! What were you thinking? I suppose it struck your fancy to try your hand at espionage?"

Harry flinched slightly at the tone, but then he noted, with surprise, the amount of venom with which the professor had said Crabbe's name. Didn't he always favor his Slytherins? Why would he care if Crabbe had cursed him? Him, Harry, Snape's least favorite student? It didn't make sense…and sure, he sounded angry at him, Harry, too, but it was different from his usual disgusted anger as if he were simply a bother put on earth to make Snape's life miserable. He had almost sounded, dare he think it, concerned…?

Suddenly his mind was buzzing with questions, and he felt dizzy. And there was a huge blank spot in his memory. Just what had happened to land him here? He couldn't really remember any confrontation with Crabbe…And, he realized, as no one seemed to be around but Snape, there wasn't much of a chance he'd have his questions answered anytime soon. But then again, why _was_ Snape there? Did he dare ask? The man would probably bite his head off and lock him in his potions storeroom the rest of the night with an old sponge and soap. In the end, curiosity won out over the caution he'd learned to adopt in front of his snarky Potions and Defense teacher.

"Um…sir?"

"Hn?"

"Er, well…why…are you here?"

For a moment, Severus didn't know what to say, and considered growling at the boy to keep his Gryffindor nosiness to himself, but then, not meeting the boy's eyes, he said, evenly as he could, "I found you under the influence of that curse and then brought you here."

"Oh…and uh, you broke the curse, too, right professor?"

"Of course, Potter! Do you think I'd leave a student to go insane?" He snapped. Harry flinched at his tone, and Severus immediately felt a twinge of guilt, which boggled his mind since a similar reaction, hours earlier with Potter, would have thrilled him.

"Insane? It was…that bad, huh? I can't really remember. Everything's fuzzy…"

Now Severus felt even more uncomfortable. How would the boy feel if he knew what had really happened? _Probably, just how you'd feel, Sev. Horrified, stripped of your privacy, invaded…_

"Thanks, Professor."

Severus jumped at the uncommon sincerity in the boy's tone. He looked up and stared at Harry, who was watching him intently. His eyes showed confusion, but otherwise, there was more genuine interest than anything else.

"Don't mention it," Severus replied gruffly.

The two just sat there for a while in silence until Severus said, somewhat awkwardly, "So, how are you feeling? Do you need another pain reliever?" Before Harry could say anything, the professor had reached up to feel his forehead. "You don't have a fever, at least…See that you get some rest, Potter, and drink your Nutritive supplement when you wake up."

"Nutritive supplement? But why-"

"Don't ask stupid questions, Potter. You're severely undernourished."

Harry blushed. "Hey! My eating habits aren't your concern! I'm fine."

"Don't be a stubborn idiot, Potter! You'll take it unless you want me to feed it to you like a three-year-old. Is that clear?"

Harry choked a little at that thought. "I'm fine! What do you care, anyway?"

"What? I don't-" Severus spluttered before glaring daggers at Harry. The boy didn't flinch, but only glared back at him. Finally, though, he sighed and relented. "Fine. Sorry, professor, I just…no one usually makes me take stuff like that so…well, I'll do it."

Severus nodded. "Go to sleep, Potter. Do you require Dreamless sleep?"

"Wha-? Oh…no, I'm fine. I don't need it."

"There's no need to be brave, Potter. You're not the first to suffer horrible nightmares."

Harry blushed at this. "They're just stupid…no big deal…"

"Nevertheless, you need your sleep, and I believe you would do better drinking this for tonight."

He said it in a way that could broach no argument, and so Harry sighed and said softly, "Well, I guess…that would be good. Thanks, Professor…" He once again looked down at his hands.

"Here. Take this."

Harry swallowed it and collapsed back on his pillow.

"Thanks again, professor…g'night…" he yawned.

"Goodnight, Harry," Severus said softly, almost indiscernibly, before sitting back in the hospital chair to continue his nighttime vigil.

* * *

><p>o O o O o<p>

Early the next morning, Severus found himself growling "Blood Pops" to a certain gargoyle and hurrying up the circular stairs. He then burst into Dumbledore's office without waiting for his customary invitation.

"Severus, my boy! How are you this fine morning?"

Severus flinched at his cheerful demeanor, which felt extremely out of place after the ordeal of the night before. And that insufferable twinkling was even more insufferable this morning…

Clearly not fazed by the glare the Potions Master sent his way, Dumbledore smiled and waved Severus in, indicating a chair. Severus grunted somewhat reluctantly and sat down.

"Busy night, Severus?"

That struck a nerve. "Well, Albus, you tell me," he drawled. "You normally keep a pretty close watch on the lives of our students, don't you?"

"Why, dear boy, I am certainly not capable of knowing everything that goes on in this lovely castle of ours!" Dumbledore chuckled.

"No. Nor, clearly, do you have a clue as to the lives of your students outside of it…"

"I'm sorry, Severus. To what are you referring?" Dumbledore asked as if he were out of the know of some piece of gossip.

Clutching his fists, Severus struggled to hold in his temper. "Tell me," he bit out. "Did you, or did you not, know that Harry Potter has been abused by his muggle relatives?"

Dumbledore looked mildly shocked but then his face shifted to a sad resignation, as if he knew the facts more clearly than Severus did. "Oh, my boy. I think 'abused' is a little bit of a stretch."

"Oh, you do, do you?"

Dumbledore raised a hand to silence him. "While I am aware that he has not been nearly as well-fed or well-loved as I would have liked him to be, at least the boy is alive, Severus! At least he's been kept safe from those who would not pause for an instant to take him from us!"

"Oh, I see…so as long as the muggles manage to restrain their flaying to within an inch of his life, you're fine with it, is that it?"

Dumbledore sighed. "My boy, you must understand. This hasn't been easy for me, but-"

"Easy for you?" He snarled. "What about Potter? Do you have any idea what goes on there, Albus? Would you like me to enlighten you?"

Dumbledore just watched him patiently as if he were a bad-tempered little boy with an unreasonable request. Severus nearly lost it right then.

"It seems, headmaster," he spat, "that the boy was made to live in a bloody cupboard under the stairs of his relatives' house for most of his life. A cupboard, Albus! A little boy, locked in a dark, enclosed area, all alone, with a bad mattress and a paper-thin blanket. They let him out to cook for them, yes, oh and do their other chores…and you'd think he'd at least get a decent meal out it, but no! The bloody arses barely gave him enough to survive! Have you ever wondered why the boy's so damn thin? Oh, and his cousin, the piece of lard, was treated like a little prince, when, of course, he was just a damn spoiled bully. You can not let him return there, Albus!"

Dumbledore studied him for a while before saying, shakily, "That can't be right, Severus. It can't have really been as bad as all that. Surely you're exaggerating?"

"Exaggerating? What do you take me for, old man?"

"Severus, please. If what you say is true, we must…" he sighed. "I fear we have no choice but to remove him. Do you have any proof?"

"Proof?" Severus' voice was cold. "Why don't you watch my memories of surfing through the boy's mind last night."

Albus raised an eyebrow. "That sounds quite invasive, Severus. May I ask what got into you to go to such lengths? Surely Harry can't have done anything in class to warrant your invading his darkest fears and secrets?"

Severus was shaking visibly now. Devious old coot, twisting things so his guilt would distract him from the more important matters…

"But Severus, as for evidence, I'm afraid I can't do anything without a direct confession from Harry. Memories of a memory are just not viable evidence for charges of this magnitude."

Severus was visibly shaking by this point, and he had to struggle to answer coherently. "You can't be serious, Albus. An abused child is not going to want to talk about it! My memories should be good enough!"

"Well, perhaps he needs to talk about it, if it is truly as bad as you say. You seem to be quite invested in the boy, Severus, something I'm glad to see. I've hoped you two would find common ground."

_Common hell, more like. _"Dammit, Albus, I don't understand you sometimes. But fine. I'll see if I can get the boy to talk, but if not, you are going to listen to me, is that clear? If I have to I'll force-feed Veritaserum to those miserable muggles and have them confess it all to you!"

"Severus, you know that's not permissible by-"

"Damn the statute of Secrecy, Albus! Once you hear their confession, you'd be hard pressed to defend them for another instant!" Severus was practically screaming.

"I understand, Severus. Please don't worry yourself over this. Wasn't there something else you wanted to discuss?"

Breathing more calmly, Severus began to explain what had happened since he'd been woken up the previous night.

"Hm. Well, I must say, Severus. Regardless of the seriousness of the hex, it was a duel between students, and things often get out of hand. I feel, at this juncture, that it would be unwise for us to expel another death eater's child. That might just prove to tip the balance against our favor, were Voldemort to take it as a declaration of war of some sort."

"Albus, a spell like that should land him in Azkaban!"

"But think about our efforts, Severus. As long as we take precautions to ensure Harry's safety, I see no reason why we must actually expel anyone."

Severus stared at him, stunned, for almost a full minute before responding. "What…sort of precautions, Albus? Just…what, exactly, do you plan to do to protect the boy?" He could hardly believe his ears. Hadn't Dumbledore always given his 'Golden Boy' special treatment among students? What was this then? Was he truly going to do nothing?

"I will leave that to you, Severus. You may do as you see fit."

"But you won't expel him."

"No. You may provide him, as you will, with the usual detentions and house point deductions. I understand you find it difficult to do so in the case of your own house, but-"

"Oh, Albus. Don't bait me that way," Severus said through gritted teeth.

"No baiting intended, my boy. But I trust your judgment, and we have more important things to worry about than a fired hex that caused no irreversible harm. If that is all, Severus?"

Severus wanted to scream, again, that the curse very well _could_ have caused irreversible harm, but Albus was clearly not to be reasoned with today. And so, instead, he bit out, "That's all, Headmaster" and, grimacing, spun out of the room, slamming the door, to whisk back to his dungeons. Perhaps he had misjudged the boy's relationship with the headmaster, as well…

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :D<p>

The next section should be out soon. Again, if you could take the time to review, I would REALLY appreciate it! Thanks!

tess4aria


	3. Advice

_**Chapter 3: Advice**_

First of all, thank you SO much for your incredible reviews! I'm sorry this has taken me a while to get out. I hope you like it, though I'm not totally satisfied with it. Please let me know if you have any advice!

Harry Potter belongs to JK

**_Please R&R~! Thanks!_**

* * *

><p>When Harry woke the next morning, his first thought was that a herd of hippogriffs must have trampled all over his brain during the night. Keeping his eyes shut helped somewhat to keep out the worst of his pounding headache, and so he feigned sleep for a while, pulling the covers back up over his head. As he lay there, feeling some of the twinges in his head receding, he found himself silently attempting to interpret the odd fuzziness of his thoughts. But he soon realized that his memories of the night's occurrences were almost hopelessly scrambled.<p>

For one thing, when he attempted to focus on what had happened the night before, the Dursleys, unfortunately, kept popping into his head. He would have shuddered and forced himself to shove them out of his mind as quickly as possible except that the scenes of their cruelty kept getting replaced by odd, unlikely images and unfamiliar feelings of someone holding him and comforting him, of that same person talking to him softly and chasing the nightmares away…but whenever Harry tried to focus on this tall, dark savior, the man, each time, would turn into Severus Snape. Harry flinched and hurriedly tried to banish such craziness away.

That _had_ to be an illusion. After all, it was very unlikely that the Dursleys had been at Hogwarts last night, so why should he trust his memories of a strangely nice Snape comforting him on the Astronomy Tower any more?

But then, as he continued to lie there, certain memories more solidly aligned themselves. He remembered the odd visitation he'd had from Snape in the middle of the night. Had that, too, been a figment of his imagination? Had there been someone there, and his mind had just tricked him into thinking it was Snape? Harry hadn't been wearing his glasses, after all, so he hadn't seen the man clearly, but the voice had been Snape, albeit without the thick curtain of disdain that was usually present when he addressed Harry. But the man had definitely been tall and dark like Snape…and he'd said he was Snape.

And for some odd reason, the thought that this night visitor had been his hated Potions instructor didn't weird him out as much as he would have expected. Rather, he somehow felt safer, more grounded, knowing his implacable Professor had been watching over him when he had been so out of it.

_I wonder if he's still here…_

Harry shook himself. _Don't be ridiculous, Potter. Snape doesn't like you. If that even WAS Snape, he was just trying to cover his own arse and make sure you weren't going to die on his watch. He was protecting himself from any accusations or something…_

But these thoughts upset him more than they should have. For some odd reason, he'd really found Snape very…comforting last night. And the man hadn't teased him about his nightmares or made him feel like a weakling or anything. And hadn't he sounded genuinely mad that Crabbe had hurt him? And then, he couldn't help but remember, as he'd been drifting off, the Professor had wished him good night…and hadn't he called him…Harry?

The headache was getting bad again, and the dark was no longer helping, so he forced himself to open his eyes and take stock of his situation. When he looked to the right, a bubble of hope in his chest he hadn't been aware of deflated when he saw the empty chair beside him. _Don't be an idiot, Potter. Of course he isn't here. Why would you expect that?_

He had no more time to think about it, though, as Madame Pomfrey bustled in, and after checking him over and giving him a headache relieving draught, returned with a vial of green potion and another with swirly blue steam rising from it.

"Professor Snape left these for you to take upon waking, Mr. Potter."

"Professor Snape did?" Harry instantly felt embarrassed by the undeniably anxious, excited note in his voice. What was wrong with him? A kind word and a soft tone and he melts for the guy? Bloody hell!

If Madame Pomfrey found his behavior odd, she didn't make any indication. "Yes, he did. Also, he asked me to inform you…oh yes, that the Nutritive Potion," she tipped the green vial, "tastes somewhat unpleasant, so you should take it with your breakfast to wash away the flavor…and he was adamant that you make sure to eat at least three bites of everything and finish your pumpkin juice, Mr. Potter."

Harry gaped at her. "Snape said that? About my breakfast?"

"_Professor_ Snape, Mr. Potter. And yes, he did. He and I are together on this-your body is not healthy for a boy your age and you need to recover your strength and many necessary vitamins and minerals. Therefore, you are to listen to us, no questions asked. Is that clear, young man?"

Harry grimaced, but nodded when the mediwitch sent him a firm, no-nonsense glare. "Yeah, sure, Madame Pomfrey," he responded with a sigh. Harry then stared down at his bed sheets, barely blinking when a breakfast tray materialized on his lap, an odd, slightly surreal mixture of embarrassment and confusion bubbling within him. Since when did _Snape _care about his eating habits? Three bites of everything? Finish his pumpkin juice? Who did he think he was? He wasn't his dad, for god sakes!

In annoyance, Harry grabbed the green bottle and chugged it, sputtering slightly at the awful flavor. "Dammit, Snape was right," he muttered, quickly taking a large gulp of pumpkin juice and a bite of bacon to get the flavor out of his mouth. Despite his defiant expression, however, he secretly felt a warm and strange giddiness in knowing that Snape really had been there, and really had been concerned enough to make sure he had his potions and breakfast… With a shadow of a smile, it occurred to Harry that that night visitation hadn't been a dream after all.

As Harry groggily remembered saying last night, hardly anyone had ever cared to notice how much he ate before. Well, Hermione scolded him about his eating habits, and Mrs. Weasley was always after him for being too thin, but for some reason, it affected him more that Professor Snape had made such an issue of it. The question was why? Perhaps because he'd seen Mrs. Weasley cooing over her own children so often that such a gesture didn't seem as significant? Harry shook his head and decided to worry about it later.

The food tasted great, but his stomach was somewhat unsettled, and just looking at the fried egg on his plate made him queasy. After looking around to make sure Madame Pomfrey had returned to her office for the time being, he muttered "Maybe no one will notice if I just cut it up," and began to slice the egg and hide it under his potatoes.

"Or maybe you'll just give yourself away, Mr. Potter," a voice drawled from the doorway.

"Professor Snape!" Harry squeaked. Realizing his hands were still traitorously sweeping bits of egg under a piece of toast and the fact that he clearly had said that last part aloud, he looked down at his blankets before shooting a sheepish glance at the Potions Master. Surprisingly, the man looked more amused than angry.

"Troublesome as always, Potter," he sighed, and then approached the bed.

"Um, sorry sir. I was eating, I just…"

"You just what? The eggs were not to your liking? You feel comfortable wasting food? Is that it?"

Harry flinched and glared angrily at him. Severus frowned a little, considering him. He knew, of course, that his accusations were entirely false, and that in truth, Harry likely savored whatever he could get his hands on, and was not the least bit picky. If anything, the boy's stomach was probably over-small due to so many years of deprivation, but Severus was looking for some way to hear the revelations he knew from Harry's mind without Harry figuring out how he discovered that information.

"Of course not! I hate wasting food, I of all people should-"

"Should what?" Severus quirked an eyebrow.

"Nothing."

"Mr. Potter," he said, voice tinged with a vague threat.

"Just leave me alone."

Severus sighed. Based on their relationship thus far, he wasn't overly surprised by how this conversation was going. Glancing up, he noticed the untouched vial at Harry's bedside and rolled his eyes. "Potter, you were supposed to take both potions."

Harry shrugged, not making eye contact, but his professor's tone was without the bite he expected when he spoke again.

"Take this. It should help."

Harry raised an eyebrow questioningly at the potion he handed over.

"A stomach soother," Severus explained. "I figured you might have trouble with breakfast after such an ordeal. But you need to eat well this morning if you want to recover. Eggs contain valuable protein and it is absolutely essential that you eat some of them, so drink this first, Harry."

Harry almost choked on the potion, but managed to get it all the way down before he stared, gaping, at Severus.

"What? Something on my nose? Is the greasy dungeon bat's hair greasier than usual?" He sneered.

"You…just called me…"

Severus' eyes widened when he realized what he'd just let slip. Somehow, in the course of the night, he'd started thinking of the boy by his given name much more easily than before. He had a strong suspicion it had to do with an inability to reconcile the neglected child sitting in his mind's eye with the arrogant bully of his past. Potter, to him, would always be an obnoxious prat set on the earth to make him miserable. And he found himself no longer able to fool himself into seeing Harry that way...but for the sake of his reputation and duty to the Order at the very least, he had to be careful to keep a firmer hold on this embarrassingly soft new inclination and continue the charade. He cleared his throat to try to clear up the awkward atmosphere.

"Anyway, _Potter." _Harry glared at him as he said the name so pointedly, "Do you feel like you can eat now?"

Harry thought about it, and then nodded, forgetting about the momentary awkwardness. With the aid of the stomach soother, he finished his breakfast with fervor.

"Thanks, sir. That was…really helpful."

Severus nodded.

Again, the silence between them grew awkward, and Harry, grasping at straws, asked, "So, uh, why are you here again?" At Severus' sharp look, he quickly amended, "Not like I mind, really, but…"

Severus considered him for a time before saying, "I wanted to ensure you were taking your potions and ascertain that the Wizarding world wasn't about to lose its 'Golden Boy.'"

Harry grimaced at that and clutched his covers tightly in his fists.

Severus cocked an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

Harry scowled. "I'd appreciate it, _sir,_ if you wouldn't call me that. I'm no savior. Anytime I try to help, I end up making things a hundred times worse." His voice started low but then the pain in his voice tripled and Severus only just managed a silent privacy spell before the boy was practically yelling. "It's my fault Cedric died, and Sirius! Not to mention my parents! Merlin knows who'll be next! All to save bloody, arrogant, stupid Harry Potter, right Professor?"

Severus stared at him, his inclination to scold him for his use of language brushed aside by the passion and raw emotion in the young man's voice. Severus was also somewhat gratified by how easily the boy could be honest with him when angry. Rather than closing up and holding his pain inside as he normally seemed to do, facing the world with a sullen, resentful facade, this way, he was giving him a clear opening to work with. Severus smirked inwardly, for once glad the boy was no Slytherin. Severus watched Harry patiently, waiting for him to continue. He wasn't disappointed. Harry faced him with a fierce glare that was both pleading and resentful and continued his rant.

"You know the truth, sir! You've always hated me! Can you explain it to everyone? I'm worthless and they're stupid to depend on me! How the bloody hell can they expect me to fight Voldemort when I can't protect myself without getting one of my friends killed?"

He was practically hysterical by this point, shaking and scowling and then he fixed Severus with an even fiercer glower, as if daring him to deny his words.

Severus sighed. He never would have believed himself to be put in this situation. In the situation to defend Harry Potter to and from himself, but it seemed, suddenly, that the snarky potions master could see the truth about the boy better than Harry could himself. _Merlin help me with with a bloody Gryffindor. Lily, if I don't botch this up totally..._

"Look, Potter. I'll admit that you have a penchant for being a careless, impulsive, too-bold-for-your-own-good Gryffindor…"

Harry nodded somewhat smugly and Severus smirked.

"However...I'm afraid, Mr. Potter, that you aren't nearly as bad as you think you are."

Harry coughed and then blinked up at him in shock. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Language, Potter," Snape drawled, but then his face turned more serious and he grasped the boy by his shoulders. Harry followed the hands with his eyes as if not quite comprehending what he was seeing before looking back up at Snape in confusion. The potions master held his gaze for a long moment before breaking off and staring to the side, his grip on Harry's shoulders holding firm.

"I must admit…I may have been too hasty in my initial judgments of you," Snape admitted quietly.

Harry stared at him for another moment in shock with a tint of something not unlike hope, but then the boy shook his head roughly and a sneer that would have done his Professor justice settled itself on his face. "No, Professor. Your initial judgment was right. I'm just as irresponsible and selfish as-"

"Will you shut up, Potter, and LISTEN to me?" Snape snarled, and Harry nodded weakly. He tried to pull back, but Snape's hands were still gripping him firmly by the shoulders, and he found himself looking back up into Snape's inscrutable Obsidian eyes.

"Okay, sir," he said softly.

Snape scowled again and sighed, moving one long-fingered hand to his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose before speaking. "Potter, you must understand. Those who died for you died because of those who murdered them, is that clear? To take the blame on yourself is to absolve them of their guilt. Are you really so self-absorbed that you believe you are solely responsible for the choices of those who died?"

The initial irate retort Harry started to throw halted in his throat as the meaning behind his professor's words sunk in, and Harry found himself once again staring at Snape. He had the feeling someone had said something like this to him before but somehow…it made more sense this time. "Oh," he said feebly.

"Oh is right," Snape spat. "What happened to Cedric Diggory was a horrible tragedy, but it was no more than the Dark Lord does daily in place of afternoon tea. Taking a family of muggleborns barely sates his appetite. Do you understand what I'm saying, Potter? It is absurd for you to destroy yourself for being unable to protect a schoolmate from the Dark Lord! To do so is pointless and only gives him power by filling you with the despair he feeds off of!"

His words made sense. Too much sense, really. Frantically, Harry grasped at something to make the Professor understand that he _was _guilty, that he _was _responsible, at least partly. "But Professor! Voldemort didn't want Cedric! He only wanted me and I'm the one who told Cedric to grab the cup with me! If I hadn't, then he never would have-"

"Potter! Did you know the cup was a portkey?" Snape waited until Harry shook his head to continue. "All you can fault yourself for, Potter, is for showing that infernal Gryffindor selflessness. I agree that it can be quite troublesome, but as it seems to be a part of you regardless of how it irritates me, you might as well just learn to live with it."

Snape sighed. He really didn't want to say this next part (and his expression showed it), but after a time, he continued. "As for Black…I hated the man, as you well know. I've hated him since the day we met, but regardless of the type of relationship we had, I did, unfortunately, know him. And if there ever were a more stubborn, impulsive man, so fiercely and stupidly protective of what he thought to be his own independence, I'd be a Gryffindor."

Harry blinked. Was that a joke?

"Do you comprehend my point, Potter? You could have done nothing to stop Black and he wouldn't have appreciated your interference. He did what he wanted and no one could have stopped him. The only one at fault, besides the mutt himself, was his insane cousin Bellatrix…and trust me, she is evil and sick enough for most of the other death eaters combined. So please, Potter, stop wallowing in this damn self-pity."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came and he found himself simply nodding, eyes wide. He didn't like the way Snape was talking about Sirius, but...his words did ring true, once he thought about it. And strangely, he felt a knot of solid guilt that had long been building and hardening in his gut loosen up a notch at Snape's words.

Harry then noticed that his professor was eying him strangely. He was staring at him, but he didn't seem to really be seeing him. Harry's eyes popped as he examined his normally dour professor's expression. Was it just him or was that…guilt? Regret? Pain? Even…affection? No. Impossible. But for an instant, a slough of emotions he'd never seen the man express seemed to flit through the professor's faraway gaze before the dark eyes focused again and Snape began to speak again in low tones.

"And Potter…taking credit for your mother's sacrifice doesn't do her any favors. If you truly respect her," he took a breath and then continued, "then grieve but stop blaming yourself!" Severus had to stop there. Those words were far too painful to spend much time saying. Because in truth, part of him _wanted _to blame the boy. It was much easier to do so, though, when he could blindly toss the boy off as James Potter's carbon copy. But fortunately or unfortunately, that was no longer the case. And no longer able to rest as much on Harry Potter as a scapegoat, the blame and guilt settled more readily on the part of Severus that blamed himself for Lily's death. And this blame was so vehement that he understood the boy's sentiments all too well.

"Must I go on, Potter?" He growled, but when Harry shook his head, an unfamiliar expression in his wide eyes, Severus relaxed and broke their gaze.

"Um, no sir. I…thank you, I guess I…wasn't thinking clearly."

"Clearly," Snape sneered, but there was no fire in the sneer this time. _Damn Potter, making me into a bloody Psychologist! If this boy doesn't kill me than I don't know what…_

Harry was reeling from all Snape had said to him. Even if it hadn't been his intention, the man had just bloody comforted him, as if he were trying to rip apart every reason he had to feel guilty! And the way he spoke about his mother was so...almost personal. As if he truly understood. Almost as if he knew her. There were too many things to think about, and Harry was teeming with questions, but he didn't even know where to begin. And so, he just faced his professor with a faint smile and changed the subject sligthly.

"Oh, and, er, thanks for last night, Professor," Harry said quietly. "I…don't really remember much. Just images, but I think you helped me, right? You, er, found me on the astronomy tower?"

Severus nodded slightly, his expression unreadable, and Harry's smile widened a bit, his tone sincere. "I really appreciate it."

After another minute, Severus cleared his throat and said, "Mr. Potter, the curse that you were hit with scrambled many of your thoughts and memories. Though the curse has been dealt with, some things will remain somewhat ambiguous for a time, and you should expect to recall these images more as your mind and body heal. As that occurs, if you find some images that…disturb or confuse you… it would be... permissible for you to stop by my office to discuss them." His tone was his usual, disinterested monotone, but again the meaning behind the words was, while not entirely welcoming and friendly, certainly more concerned and caring than not.

"S-sure, Professor. Thanks," Harry found himself saying.

Severus nodded curtly and stood up, removing a vial from his cloak. "And if you begin to feel nervous, take this. Anti-anxiety potion with pain reliever…and I will instruct your housemates to bring you whatever work you have missed. I expect you to be prepared for class Thursday, is that clear?"

"Yes, professor. Uh, thanks again for…you know." He blushed.

With a final nod, Severus left the hospital wing, his mind burning with ideas for how to deal with his Slytherins this evening…not to mention how he was going to go about getting Harry to admit to his treatment by those muggles…Severus sighed. Why must his life revolve so completely around the bloody Boy-Who-Lived-to-Give-Him-a-Headache? But it was becoming increasingly clear to him that Harry's head of house (not to mention Dumbledore) had done little to nothing for the boy over the past six years. This could not continue, and though the Potions Master grumbled to himself all the way down to his office in the dungeons, he felt a sense of purpose that was not entirely unpleasant at the knowledge that the boy's interests were falling more completely to him to deal with.

And at least the boy had been surpringly open with him. As expected, Harry tended to bare his emotions when angry...much like another green-eyed Gryffindor. Severus smiled slightly to himself. He could definitely use that. Perhaps, if the boy continued to act more like his mother, this could even work.

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><p>Thanks for reading! I'm...not sure how I feel about this chapter. Was Snape to OOC? Anyway, let me know! Your feedback is MUCH appreciated!<p>

Thanks~

tess4aria


	4. Addressing the Issue

**Trustworthy**

**Chapter 4: Addressing the Issue**

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><p>First of all, I apologize, a million times over, for being so slow getting this out. I also realize this is a slightly shorter chapter than some of the others. If it is any consolation, the next chapter is basically already ready to go, and so you will not have to wait for that chapter like you have for this.<p>

Not much of an excuse, but I've been focusing on writing another SSHP non-slash HP story, **_Embrace What Fate Hands You_**, so if you have time, check it out! Parallel Universe travelling, etc...Please excuse the SHAMELESS PLUG!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this.

Harry Potter belongs to J.K.

_**Please R&R~! Thanks so much!**_

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><p>o O o O o<p>

At 7'o clock sharp that night, Severus looked up, face set in a scowl, and growled "Enter" at the tentative knock on his office door.

Clearly none-too-pleased with their predicaments, his two wayward Snakes shuffled in slowly. A blank look was plastered on Goyle's face as he seemed to stare at nothing, and Draco's expression showed equal parts resentment and anxiety. On a second glance, Severus confirmed the very slightest hint of more honest resignation to his situation and, he noticed with a fleeting touch of satisfaction, some guilt.

"Sit," he bit out, and the two young men hastily made to sit down. Severus allowed himself a slight smirk at witnessing, once again, the fruit of his years of practiced intimidation. Severus regarded the two in silence over his steepled fingers for several minutes, enjoying the feel of the thick, murky tension brewing in the room. In this particular case, he was honestly playing more for show. Already privy to the specifics of the boys' actions and their various roles in last night's debacle, he was more concerned with maintaining his reputation as Slytherin House's strict, fear-inspiring Head to keep these two in line than really enforcing much bite on these two at the moment. They were simply part of his act, this evening.

And if he were to be accused of using a little too much Slytherin manipulation, er, _cunning_… on the boys, well, who could say he wasn't fulfilling his role as head of a house priding itself on such traits?

Severus' mouth twisted into a farce of a smile at the slightly impudent knock which sounded on his door several minutes later.

He did not respond immediately, savoring the silence, before hissing "Enter!" to the closed door.

Crabbe stepped in then, and regarded Draco and Goyle in surprise which he quickly schooled. Severus fixed a glare on him which could have made plenty of students cry before saying, in a deadly whisper, "So, I see you've deigned to drop in on us, have you, Crabbe? Tell me," he sneered, his tone taking on a dangerously silky timbre, "Is it simply idiocy that would lead you to assume it would be permissible to arrive _late_ for a meeting with your Head of House? Or did you consider my request so beneath you that you thought, perhaps, you could just wander in at the tail end?"

"N-no, sir," he muttered, his face scrunching up in confusion, "But I didn't think I was late, sir. The note said to get here at 7:15-"

"Are you suggesting that _I _am the one misinformed of the time of our meeting then, boy?" Severus' voice was thick with biting sarcasm and menace, and Crabbe gulped, but did his best to look defiantly into his head of House's harsh glare (which he was only successful in doing for two seconds).

"Well…no, sir, but…"

"But?" He hissed. "Well, then, out with it. You must have the note still. Show it to me."

"Er…"

"Pathetic. Can't say I'm surprised. Well?" He then barked, "What are you waiting for? Summon it, then!"

Fumbling with his wand, Crabbe nodded after a moment of hesitation and murmured the incantation to summon the parchment which flew into his outstretched hand several minutes later.

"Well?" Severus' tone suggested genuine curiosity, though inside he was smirking at the look of confusion and disappointment on Crabbe's face as he read the missive.

Smirk pulling at his lips now, Severus held out a hand for the missive which Crabbe reluctantly handed over. Eyebrow raised, Snape feigned shock as he flapped the parchment before all three boys, sneering, "What do you know? 7:00 is written here, as plain as I can see. Perhaps you'd best ask Potter to borrow those obnoxious glasses of his?" He suggested, tone light.

Crabbe grimaced, his face no longer a wall of indifference, and Severus smirked inwardly. His plan to break the brat's composure was well underway.

With a deep scowl, he ordered Crabbe to sit in the only remaining chair, which was significantly shorter than the others in the room, leaving him to have to look up slightly to see the twin shards of black ice piercing him from the Potion Master's face.

"So," Severus finally began, in a low, threatening voice. "Would any of you care to explain, in detail, what you were doing last night, _after curfew, _wandering around the 7th floor corridor?"

As expected, all three remained silent, though Goyle was squirming slightly, Crabbe was avoiding eye contact, and Draco was eying him in confusion and suspicion (which he hid almost as quickly as the expressions had formed).

"You wouldn't happen to have seen anyone else out of bed? A student perhaps?"

All three remained silent, though Draco's eyes didn't leave his professor's for an instant, as if attempting to see through to his intentions.

"For you see…I am curious as to know how Potter wound up under a very specific curse in that very hallway. Anyone? For one does not cast such a spell on oneself, I can assure you." He cast a long, slow, damning glance on all three boys and held it for a time.

"We don't know anything about it, Professor!" Crabbe finally burst out, "And if Potter told you something like that, he's just trying to get back at us for being Snakes!"

"Oh, really, Crabbe? Well, I hate to inform you, but Potter told me no such thing. Nor did I have any other such informant…" Draco blinked at him at that, relief washing over him that the Professor didn't seem to be planning on selling him out in front of his housemates.

"No," Severus continued, "My methods are much more…full-proof than mere supposition from the lips of a 16-year-old boy. And might I remind you all," he then said in a low tone as he let his gaze wash over the three again, "that I do not permit shows of such weakness and cowardice as attacking another student who is so vastly outnumbered. _That _is the kind of behavior I have come to expect from other houses, yes, but from Slytherin? I must admit…I'm not…inclined…to be lenient."

They all gulped, and Severus clucked his tongue. "Loathe as I am to deduct points from my house, Mr. Crabbe, I fear myself pushed to do so for your blatantly un-Slytherin behavior," he hissed. "Let your dormmates remember this!" Swallowing a lump in his throat and gritting his teeth, he spat out, "25 points from Slytherin for your arrogance and lack of forethought! Your stupidity has earned these two," he jerked his head at Draco and Goyle, "a week, each, of detentions." He leveled a glare at them. "See that you choose your acquaintances more wisely if they only serve to drag you down. Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Goyle, you are dismissed. Malfoy, be at my office at 7 tomorrow night. Goyle, report to Filch at the same time. You two are dismissed."

After shooting a glare at Crabbe, both left the room.

Severus aimed his wand at the door, silencing and locking it. "And now, we're alone, Mr. Crabbe," he said softly, eyes glinting with malevolence. Despite himself, Crabbe gulped nervously.

* * *

><p>o O o O o<p>

"Harry!"

"You alright, mate?"

Harry groaned at the enthusiastic voices of his two best friends as they wrenched him from his state of half-sleep. Through blurry eyes, he noticed a mop of brown fuzziness and a lot of freckly red staring down at him.

"Ron? Mione?" He yawned. "What time is it?" He grasped for his glasses, which Hermione proceeded to grab and fix to his face. He shot her a look of feigned annoyance, but she simply huffed before her expression turned to one of concern.

"Harry, we were so worried! You were gone this morning and Ron said your invisibility cloak was missing, too, and…then finally Professor McGonagall told us you were in the hospital wing, but she wouldn't give us any details! What happened, Harry? You didn't get in a fight, did you?" She asked, nervously examing him to make sure he wasn't missing any limbs.

"Er, well…yeah, kind of, but…it's not such a big deal, Hermione."

"Bollocks, Harry," Ron cut in. "Mate, you've gotta watch out for yourself alone like that! Why didn't you wake me up if you were going out last night? Was it Malfoy and his goons?" His voice suddenly turned harsh and angry.

Looking around to make sure they were alone, Harry cast a quick _muffliato _and said, "Yeah, well…it was them, actually, but," he grabbed Ron's wrist as the boy immediately turned, looking as if he were about to storm off, "It wasn't actually Malfoy this time. Apparently Crabbe hit me with something bad…like, well…something _dark_," he admitted.

At this, Ron and Hermione exchanged horrified glances, but when they looked back at Harry, they were shocked to see the faint smile on his face.

"Um, Harry? You okay, there? Last time I checked, being cursed by dark magic wasn't exactly something to smile about…"

"Oh," Harry blinked, chuckling slightly at himself, "I wasn't smiling about that it's just…it's the weirdest thing, too, but, er…you'll never believe who helped me…"

"Dumbledore?"

"Oh, Ron, that wouldn't be surprising," Hermione countered him gently as his ears turned slightly pink. She studied Harry for a long moment before saying, "Was it Professor Snape, Harry?"

"Oh come _on,_ Hermione!" Ron groaned. "That greasy git _hates_ Harry! And he's been even worse ever since he messed him up with the Occlumency crap! Why are you so bloody nice about him? He treats you like rubbish, too, for Merlin's sake!"

Hermione was opening her mouth to retort, when Harry said, "Yeah, actually. It was Professor Snape."

Ron gaped at him, and Hermione rolled her eyes at the taller young man. "Oh, come on, Ronald. You know as well as we do that Professor Snape has saved Harry before, and you know he's on our side, now! Yes, he knows his fair share of dark magic, but he doesn't use it anymore, and that just makes it even more clear why he would be the perfect one to help Harry get rid of some dark magic curse!"

Ron grunted reluctantly in partial acknowledgement of her words, but then turned an accusing glare on Harry, "But then why does he look so bloody smug about it? Harry, this is _Snape!_ You know he only helps you so Dumbledore won't kick him out on the street! It isn't like he _gives a _bloody _damn!"_

An unexpected wave of anger and hurt rose in Harry's chest at Ron's words, and he found himself sitting up and glaring at his best friend so fiercely that the red-head took a step back in shock. "You're wrong," he hissed. "You don't know what you're talking about, Ron!"

A very awkward silence followed this outburst, with Ron looking a mixture of outraged, shocked and hurt, and Hermione looking as if she were trying to figure out a particularly interesting puzzle. Harry blushed when he realized what he'd just said, and how he'd said it. He didn't really regret his words, exactly. They were the truth after all. Ron did have a tendency to be judgmental and extremely stubborn about certain people, particularly Slytherins, and Harry just wasn't in the mood for it.

But to be fair, Ron didn't know the facts, so Harry bit his lip and his expression softened. "Hey, sorry mate. I didn't mean for it to come out that way, I just-"

"You just what?" Ron spat, his face red, "You're going to tell me you're all buddy-buddy with Snape now? What's next, you and Malfoy going to be best mates? Planning on asking for a resorting, are you?"

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, and she tugged at his arm, but he just shook her off, glare fixed on Harry.

Harry was glaring back so fiercely, he would have done the object of the current conversation justice, and this fact seemed to enrage Ron even more.

Fists bunched, he took a step closer to the hospital bed, but Harry was beyond livid now. "Look, _Weasley_, I don't know about you, but I always thought one important aspect of friendship was that you actually _trust_ your friends! How the hell could you even say crap like that to me? If you would just give me one BLOODY second to explain!"

Ron looked to be fighting some internal battle. He still had the same stubborn scowl on his face, but it was cracking slightly, and finally, after a few deep breaths and much coaxing from Hermione, he sat down in a hospital chair, looking sullen.

Harry scowled at him, and when he spoke he addressed Hermione, avoiding looking at Ron at all. "Thank you. Well, to be honest, it's all very shaky still…you see, I checked the maruaders' map and noticed Malfoy and his goons had disappeared again, so I decided to see if I could catch them coming out of the Room of Requirement…"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione groaned, "What have I told you? I knew your paranoia was going to get you in trouble!"

Harry had the grace to look slightly abashed, but then said, "But Hermione, Malfoy didn't actually hex me…weird as it is, I vaguely remember him trying to convince Crabbe to leave me be…but, er…anyway, so he cast this curse on me, and the next thing I know I'm in the hospital wing and uh…Professor Snape was here and he explained," he gulped. "Well, he said Crabbe had hit me with some curse that can turn you insane if it goes for too long and so…I don't know really. He found me under it so I really can't say what happened between us. It's all a big blank, really…I just have images, and feelings. It must have been really disturbing, though, because Snape actually looked worried about me when I woke up!"

Ron looked like a gaping fish at the last, but Harry ignored him.

"What kind of images, Harry?" Hermione asked softly, eyes wide in horror.

"Well, mostly scenes from my past. A lot of stuff with the Dursleys. I feel like I was trapped in my nightmares or something. It's really confusing, because I think some of what I remember really happened, but the stuff that was just in my head feels just as real. It's…disturbing."

"That sounds just awful, Harry."

"Yeah, but to be honest, it wasn't as bad as it sounds. Like, I don't know how to explain it, Hermione, but Snape just kind of…grounded me. He brought me back somehow and was really cool about it. Then, when I woke up, he didn't push me to explain anything, but just gave me potions for my pain and made me eat breakfast, and made sure I got enough rest and…" Harry trailed off, blushing fiercely.

"That's bloody mental!" Ron said, but this time, he seemed more amused and confused that indignant. "I mean…sounds like Snape was acting like a bloody nursemaid! Are you sure that wasn't an imposter? Or Snape's nice twin?"

Harry grinned slightly. "I actually wondered that same thing, Ron. "But no. Only Snape can pull off snarkiness like that…" he smiled, almost fondly.

Ron watched him incredulously, but bit his tongue to stop himself saying anything else. Harry had, after all, clearly had an awful night, and he probably didn't need any more arguments any time soon. Looking at his shoes, Ron said, "Er, Harry…sorry, mate, for going off on you. That sounds like a pretty bad spell and all and uh, I'm glad you were cured in time, even if it was Snape who did it, so…uh, I guess I can understand your appreciating his help, but…what I mean to say is…"

Harry and Hermione laughed at their red-faced, red-haired, very flustered friend. Harry appreciated the sentiment, despite its awkward presentation, and so he simply smiled and said, "Thanks, Ron."

Ron nodded. "You're not going to be friends with Malfoy, though, are you?"

"Ron, just because I may not think Snape is a totally evil git anymore doesn't mean I'm planning on signing up for Slytherin anytime soon," he said, amusement lacing his voice. "But seriously, don't you think we should try to see past the whole house rivalry thing? I mean, not all Slytherins are the same. They can't all be bad."

Ron raised an eyebrow and looked at him doubtfully, and Harry laughed, shaking his head. Ron could be a pig-headed prat at times, and Slytherins were perhaps his most pig-headed topic, but he was still his best friend, and as long as he wasn't blatantly offending anyone he liked, Harry found the boy's childish stubbornness almost endearing.

"Oh, Harry, before I forget!" Hermione said, suddenly perking up. "Here are all of the notes and homework you missed!"

Harry groaned and tried to pull the covers up over his head, made more difficult by Hermione sitting on said covers.

"I feel for you, mate," Ron laughed, his mood of earlier totally vanishing in the familiar banter of Hermione's homework-fetish.

At that point, the three looked up to see a very annoyed-looking Madame Pomfrey, glaring at the three students who were clearly having a conversation under the radar. Glaring and pointing to her ears, Harry flushed and released the Half-Blood Prince's spell.

Several hours later, he was dismissed from the hospital wing feeling much more rested than he had in a while. Thoughts of class the next day, even with the largish amount of homework he still had left to do, were less unappealing than usual.

He had actually found it almost enjoyable to work on his homework this afternoon, for some reason. It couldn't have been Snape's somewhat gentle warning that he'd best be prepared for next class, could it have? Harry had afterall, never before, had anyone who cared whether he kept up in classes or not. No one had ever really inquired, and no one who cared had ever been responsible for him…at the Durselys, of course, he would be punished for out-performing Dudley.

But Snape didn't really _care_, did he? Just because he'd told him to be prepared for class...that didn't mean he was really expecting much, right? He was probably just saying that so he wouldn't have to waste as much red pen...

The idea that maybe it was more than that seemed too absurd, and too terrifying in its novelty, and Harry's mind was still feeling a little too jumbled to really consider it. Unconsciously, however, he felt a little warm surge of happiness at the thought that he might be able to impress the harsh Potions Master and current Defense teacher… or was he only fooling himself?

He pushed his way through the portrait hole, smiling softly while clutching his defense book.

* * *

><p>o O o O o<p>

Crabbe left Snape's office feeling thoroughly chastised and wronged. Not only had his quidditch privileges been taken away for the rest of the year, not only was he suspended from classes and confined to a private room in the dungeons for the next week, but he was in detention at least until the holidays…half with Filch and half with Snape…oh, and then the bloody bastard had threatened to write a note home to his father!

_Well_, Crabbe had thought at first, _let him do that_. _Father will be only too pleased to hear what curse I've used on Potter_…but as soon as the thought occurred to him, it left him just as quickly as Draco's words came back to him. Would the Dark Lord appreciate his actions? Or would he see him as stealing his glory or damaging his target? These doubts froze Crabbe's tongue, but they didn't stop a seed of suspicion from festering in his chest.

Why had Snape been so hard on him for something so inconsequential? _It's not as if Potter was permanently damaged from the sound of it, so what gives? And what was that bull about Potter not telling him it was us who cursed him? Of course Potter would tell on us…It's almost as if Snape were protecting him. _

As this thought rooted in his chest, Crabbe felt suspicions directed at his head of house mingle with anger at the man's obvious attempts to sabotage his relationship with his housemates and turn them against him. He'd even taken points away from Slytherin, and explained it away with some weak story about how Slytherins shouldn't show cowardice…In Crabbe's experience, Slytherins just understood survival of the fittest, and if to be fittest, you needed a larger group and more powerful spells, then fine!

No, something was definitely off about their Head of House, and he was determined to figure out just what… and just where the man's true loyalties lay.

* * *

><p>Sorry for the lack of HarrySev interaction! I can promise there will be plenty in the next few chapters, so fear not! I hope you enjoyed this chapter nevertheless...more details on Draco's/Crabbe's punishments later...and, of course, I had to put in the Ron-being-a-stubborn-arse-about-Snape scene.

Again, thanks for your patience, and please drop a review!

tess4aria


	5. Facades Slipping

_**Chapter 5: Facades Slipping**_

I am so sorry for the wait! This is a super-long chapter, though, so I hope it makes up for it! Please let me know what you think!

Harry Potter belongs to J.K.

**_Please R&R~!_**

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><p>o O o O o<p>

Harry took a deep breath and stepped into the Defense classroom that had been the home of some of his best-and worst-experiences at this school. Having Snape as Defense teacher this year hadn't been as miserable as the class had been under many others, but he definitely hadn't been enjoying it. Which was a shame, as he really loved Defense Against the Dark Arts. And when he thought about it, Snape really had taught them interesting things this year. If only he weren't always sneering at him and calling him out for practically nothing…

So now the question was…would things be different?

"Mate, what are you waiting for?" Ron asked, and Harry laughed sheepishly before muttering "Nothing" and following him in. Harry found himself heading for a desk closer to the front of the room than usual, and didn't notice what he was doing until Ron shot him a glare and hissed, "Oi, Harry! We sit back there!"

"Oh, sorry," Harry started to get up, but Hermione grabbed his wrist before he could. "Ron, you can sit in the back. Harry's going to sit with me today! Isn't that right, Harry?"

"Uh, sure…"

Ron shot her a glare and she sniffed at him. When Harry looked back and shrugged apologetically, Ron rolled his eyes but didn't seem too miffed, so Harry grinned and gathered his book and parchment, wand in his hand.

"You look excited for class today, Harry," Hermione noted approvingly.

"Oh, no I just…figured I could try a little harder today. You know, see if Snape might treat me differently if I do," Harry quickly contrived.

"Sounds great, Harry!" Hermione said happily, a little knowing smile playing on her lips. "Make sure you volunteer, okay? And just do your best! You're great in defense, so it should be no sweat!"

Harry rolled his eyes, but said "Sure, Mione," watching his studious best friend pore over their reading for the day.

Harry noticed, vaguely, that Crabbe was missing from the room, and Malfoy wasn't looking in his direction.

He didn't have time to consider that further, however, as Snape came into the room at that instant, his robes billowing around him majestically. Harry had to suppress a grin, wondering if the Professor practiced in front of his mirror to get his robes to make such an effect.

After drawing his customary glare over his students, Snape began the lesson. "Today, we are going to try for a more…practical lesson for part of the class. As you are now in your sixth year, and the world is …not as safe as _some _would have you believe, it is necessary that you have at least a reasonable supply of defensive and offensive spells at your disposal. All of you, books away and stand up!"

Hurriedly, everyone stood, and no sooner had they stuffed their books in their bags that the desks were all transfigured into plain, straight-backed chairs which quickly rearranged themselves in the back of the room.

"Take a seat. If you so decide to participate, you will join me in the middle, explain and demonstrate your spells. One offensive, and one defensive. Well? I don't have all day," he drawled.

The students all took their seats and Snape began looking around the room, his eyes tracing over his students like a bird of prey searching for a morsel. "Well, who wants to go first? Or am I wasting my breath?"

Hesitantly, Harry raised his hand. Snape raised an eyebrow, considering the dark-haired boy for a long moment, but then nodded once. "Yes, Mr. Potter? Something to contribute? I would assume, after your various school stunts that you would have at least one or two battle spells in your ensemble…"

Harry glared slightly, but then trained his face and took a deep breath. "Yes, sir."

"Very well. First, defensive. Explain it, including the incantation and wand movements."

"Er, sure." Steeling himself, Harry stood up and went to stand in the middle of the room. "Okay. First is the shield spell. The incantation is _protego_, and you need to wave your wand like this." Harry made a fast circular swish with his wand.

"That was as basic an explanation as they come, but I suppose it was permissibly accurate. Anything to add?"

Harry just stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Though in his usual acerbic manner, that was as close to a complement as Snape had ever given him in class, after all. "Oh. Yes, sir. _Protego_, of course, is not full-proof. Against certain types of dark magic, for instance, it can only block some of the spell, and of course it's useless against the unforgivables...oh, and how strong your shield is depends on how much magic you put into it. You have to focus to make sure the right amount of magic from your core is going into the spell. If you put enough, it can protect more than just yourself, and you can also do a long-distance shield to protect someone else entirely. Your intent is also important, and the focus and intended use of the spell effects how it manifests…"

Harry stopped, and then blushed, realizing how long he'd rambled. The room around him was silent.

He looked hesitantly at Snape, and noticed his professor was watching him with an inscrutable expression in his eyes. "Very well, Potter," he said, finally. "You seem to be moderately well-versed in the methods of use of this particular shield. Are you ready for a practical exhibition?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

Without further warning, Snape made a slicing movement, and a blue beam shot towards him. Harry was a little slow, but managed to pull up his shield in time. A jet of ice met the shield and clattered to the ground harmlessly.

Harry blinked and said, somewhat indignantly, "You didn't say you were going to cast a silent spell!"

"Oh? Must have slipped my mind," Snape sneered, and several Slytherins chuckled. But then Snape's gaze met Harry's and he said, more seriously, "Be aware, Potter, that to truly be of any use in a battle, you must be prepared for anything. And silent incantations are used constantly. You can be sure that your enemy will give you no warning. Battle reflexes, and a close attention to your opponent's movements, are necessary."

Harry bit his lip as he let this sink in before saying that he understood and Severus nodded. "Well? Your offensive spell?"

"Uh, yes. This is the blasting spell. The incantation is _confringo. _The wand movement is more of a little twirl and then a jab, like so."

"And?"

"And it can cause a lot of damage on a person-it's kind of like a grenade." At the blank stares, he said quickly, "Oh, that's a muggle bomb. Anyway, it blows its target apart, but if you shoot it at a wall nearby or a building or something, it can be useful to trap or injure an enemy if you don't mean to kill them. Again, you can control the power you put into it to determine how large an area you want to target, but since this is offensive magic, it draws more on your core, so be careful when you use it not to exhaust yourself, especially if you aren't used to battle magic."

Snape nodded and said "Very well, Mr. Potter. Shall we begin again?"

Harry half-smiled and nodded, suddenly realizing how much he was enjoying himself. With a twist of his wrist and a jab, he shouted, "Confringo!" And a red beam shot towards his professor. Snape effectively stopped it in place with a freezing charm which burned the blasting magic out in an instant, cooling it and rendering the magic harmless.

There were a number of impressed noises from the audience at the presentation of such an explosive practice battle, and Snape nodded curtly at Harry, letting him know he could sit down.

"That was great, Harry!" Hermione whispered excitedly, and Harry had to work to suppress his glee. Sure, he hadn't earned points, but the nods of recognition, and the slightly less-cold-than-normal tone of Snape's voice meant more than points to him, strangely. He noticed Malfoy was looking at him with an odd look. He looked frustrated, and somewhat wistful and, could it be…guilty? No way!

"Mr. Malfoy? Would you like to participate?" Snape drawled, and the blond boy dragged his eyes away from Harry to hurriedly nod and move to the center of the room.

"Defensive spells, Mr. Malfoy. What do you know?"

With another furtive half-glance at Harry, Malfoy muttered, "Expelliarmus, to disarm your enemy."

"Yes, that's quite a basic battle move, but it can be quite effective."

"The prat's stealing your move, Harry!" Ron hissed from behind, and Hermione shot him a glare as Harry leaned back to elbow him in the chest.

"Mr. Weasley! 10 points from Gryffindor for insolence and interrupting my lesson."

Ron glared daggers, but then, with a smirk, Snape added "And for putting an idiot in his place, 2.5 points to Mr. Potter," he ended. A hush sped through the classroom as almost everyone stared at Snape as if he'd grown horns.

Harry bit his lip. Things were definitely different now. Maybe Snape couldn't show it that well in class, but his snarkiness seemed funny rather than obnoxious now…as if it were just a big show, a big joke…and even though 2.5 points were pitiful compared to the 20 points Snape gave Malfoy for demonstrating a passable Cutting Curse, those 2.5 points were still the most Snape had ever given any Gryffindor as far as he knew…and to his apparently most hated student, no less!

Ron was still gaping somewhat stupidly, grousing about 'unfair greasy gits' as they were gathering their belongings, but before either Harry or Hermione turned to shush him, Snape said, "Mr. Potter, stay back after class. My office." Without another word or glance, he whisked into his office.

Harry nodded, but Ron grabbed him and said, "Oi, mate. Don't let the git get to you , okay? He's just-"

"He's not a git, Ron," Harry said softly, but firmly.

Ron made a face. "But Harry, how can you just forget how-"

"Just go on. I'll meet you later."

Before Ron could say anything else, Hermione pulled the red-head after her, shooting a commiserating glance at Harry. "See you at lunch, Harry!"

After gathering his books up, Harry took a deep breath and moved into Snape's office. The DADA office, simply by virtue of not being in the dingy dungeons, was already more pleasant than Snape's old office, but Harry had still found it unpleasant when he had visited it for detentions earlier in the year. Now, however, sparing the time to look around more closely, it wasn't quite as creepy as he had thought it was. There were many of the Potion Master's odd stores of ingredients lined up in top shelves, but in this less daunting office, he found them more interesting, really, than anything. Besides the never totally pleasant view of eyes of newt and pickled brains, however, the walls were crammed with books about Defensive theory and Potion-making, and the furniture was in a deep, rich Mahogany which made him feel calm, somehow.

"Sit down, Mr. Potter," Snape said, indicating a high-backed chair with a cushion that Harry had never seen before. Surely he wasn't going to let him sit in such a comfortable-looking chair, was he? But that was the only chair available, and so he sat. He smiled. It was comfortable.

"Um, what did you need to see me about, Professor?"

Seeming to ignore him, Snape looked down at an assortment of papers to be graded and said, after a while, casually, "Would you care for something to drink?"

Harry gaped. Was that a trick question? Snape wasn't trying to poison him, was he?

His Professor seemed to know what was going through his head, and smirked at him. "I assure you, Mr. Potter, that were I planning to kill you, I would do something more interesting than poison you with tea and biscuits."

"A-ah…I see."

Snape continued to smirk as he said, firmly, "Lakey!"

"Yes, Master Snape? What cans I gets you?" A squeaky-voiced house-elf asked as she materialized, done-up in all the splendor of a pink pillowcase.

"The usual. Make it for two."

"Yes sir, Master Snape, sir!"

With a pop, the little house-elf was gone, and Harry stared at Snape as if he'd gone mad. Snape didn't seem to notice his reaction, however (or, more likely, he chose not to acknowledge it), and continued to peruse student papers, liberally dabbing them with red, seeming to forget Harry's presence until the house-elf had returned with a tray of raisin scones and two teacups.

Snape thanked the little elf and then gestured for Harry to take a scone and a cup. Harry took each tentatively, muttered 'thank you,' but then waited for Severus to take his first sip and bite. When he didn't immediately collapse, Harry let out a slight sigh of relief, and then shot Snape a quick glance, worried he might have overheard.

For a moment, he was worried there actually had been poison in the Professor's tea, for the corners of his mouth were convulsing slightly. But then, to Harry's shock, his convulsions stopped as Snape actually _smiled._

Harry blinked at him. Sure, it wasn't much of a smile, but the corners of Snape's lips were definitely ever-so-slightly turned upwards, and the man genuinely looked amused about something. Tentatively, Harry said, "Uh, is something funny, Professor?"

Snape took a long, leisurely sip of his tea before responding. "Yes, Mr. Potter. I must say, loathe as I am to admit it, that I find you to be somewhat amusing when I distract myself from wanting to wring your neck."

Harry stared at him for a few seconds before it hit him. Snape had just made a joke. _Snape, _known to be the most no-nonsense, strict, rule-advocating teacher on staff had just made a perfectly acceptable (and not half-bad, really) joke. Harry couldn't help it. He smiled and then burst out laughing, unable to hold it any longer.

Snape even chuckled a bit.

"Is that so, professor?" He asked, grinning.

"I see no reason to lie about such things," he responded evenly. The two made eye contact, and Harry half-grinned again. The two then settled in to enjoy their tea and scones in silence for several minutes. As he sipped at his tea Harry found himself glancing up at Snape occasionally, half-waiting for him to start talking, to tell him what the _real _reason he was here was. For Snape had NOT invited him over just for tea. That just wasn't possible!

Wanting to say something, but hesitant to interrupt Snape. For no matter how the man's attitude towards him seemed to be changing, he was still the same irascible man he had known for the last 5 years, right?

Eventually, though, Harry decided he couldn't suffer the silence for much longer and settled for a simple "Oh, um, thanks for the tea and scone, Professor. They're really great."

"I thought you could use a pleasant surprise for a change," Snape responded offhandedly.

"Sir?"

"You were quite good in class today, Mr. Potter," Snape said suddenly.

Huh? Where had that come from? "Oh, well…thanks, Professor Snape. I just…I like Defense and it was a good lesson. Practical demonstrations are really useful and so…"

"Thank you. Good to know I'm not wasting all my time on complete dunderheads."

Harry chuckled again. "I guess it probably feels like that sometimes, huh?"

"More than you can imagine, Potter. And just try to get through a day's worth of the chicken scratch you little insolent brats call homework! Tell me, Potter, is this part of some conspiracy to get me out of teaching by going blind?"

Harry laughed again. When Snape turned his insults on their sides, they actually made quite reasonable jokes. "I wouldn't put it past some of them, Professor," he responded, grinning. "I'll have to ask Ron about that one."

"Ah. Yes. No need to ask the older Mr. Weasleys Fred and George. We all know that nothing they do is without some apparently humorous intention."

"Yeah…they're a riot, those two."

It was a while before it hit Harry how odd it was that he was sitting in Professor_ Snape's_ office, drinking tea and eating scones and making friendly banter! Ron would definitely think he'd gone off the deep-end. Also odd was the fact that, well…it didn't _feel _odd. Harry didn't feel any inclination to bolt off or make excuses. Talking to Snape like this somehow felt…natural and liberating in a way.

Around Snape, he didn't feel the need to pretend to be someone he wasn't. After all, it wasn't like he had much to lose in front of the man. Snape had thought the worst of him for years, after all, so he could hardly make the man think less of him by being honest about himself. Strangely enough, the professor seemed to respond much better to him when he was more open. But what, exactly, had caused such a drastic change in the man's attitude towards him? Could he really trust that the man wouldn't turn on him again? How many adults in his life, after all, hadn't deceived him in some way?

At the moment, he really didn't want to worry about it. Strange as it was, he was enjoying himself. For the moment, it almost felt as if he and Snape were, well…on good terms. Almost like, dare he say it? Friends. But that couldn't last, could it?

"I feel the need to let you know, Mr. Potter, that for various reasons I must continue to treat you…somewhat reprehensibly in class," Snape then said, taking Harry for another loop.

"Wh-what, sir? You…I mean, you were fine today. You even gave me house points!"

Snape scoffed. I gave you 2.5 points, and then only to make up for the 10 points I took from Weasley for making a decidedly Weasley-ish comment. I awarded Draco with points he deserved far less than you did for two comprehensive and clear explanations of your chosen spells and a presentation of each."

Harry gaped at him. Snape felt bad about how he'd treated him in class? But he was much nicer than usual, and had he really thought that about Harry's performance? Harry smiled. It felt inordinately good to be praised by someone with such high expectations as Professor Snape.

"Thank you, Professor. I thought I did okay, but-"

"You did well, Harry. You should be proud of yourself for having learned anything in Defense over the years considering your other teachers were either death-eaters or dunces."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Snape raised his hand and sighed. "I know. Perhaps Lupin wasn't a total dunce. As a teacher, that is. My personal feelings excluded, I admit he taught you quite well concerning dark creatures."

Harry smiled. That was just about as much as he could possibly hope for, considering Snape's past with the Marauders…As that thought passed him by, Harry frowned. It still made him uncomfortable to think about how, from the memory he'd seen that day last year, his father had truly been every bit the arrogant bastard to Snape the Professor had always said. Harry soon found himself curious to know more, and before he knew what he was doing, blurted,

"Professor, I wanted to…uh, apologize."

Snape definitely looked confused, and Harry smirked at the un-Snape-like face.

"For what, Potter?"

Harry sighed. "Well, uh…last year, I…well, I…went into the pensieve and saw…" without looking at Snape to see his reaction, he hurriedly said, "Look, I didn't mean to spy on you personally. That was the year Dumbledore was avoiding even looking at me because he knew about my connection with Voldemort and people had been keeping me out of the loop with the Order and everything and I was frustrated and tired of feeling so useless and sick of being kept ignorant and I…thought there would be something about the Order meetings in there. I should have thought it through, and I regret being so impulsive. I'm really sorry, Professor, but I promise it gave me no joy to see that!"

Harry's voice had reached a passionate note, and he finally looked up to meet Snape's eyes, which were watching him inscrutably.

"You see, what I was thinking when you got me out of there was that…well, that you were right. My dad was a real arse. At least to you…and to my mum, judging from what I saw in that memory. I uh, didn't understand how they ever got together after seeing that. She was nice, at least, but he was like…well, like…"

Harry cut off suddenly, but Snape thought he knew where he was going. "Like a bully?" He asked softly, and Harry nodded.

Snape watched him in silence over his steepled fingers before replying, softly, "Well, yes. I was a skinny, awkward, antisocial bookworm. Naturally, I had plenty of experience with bullies. Somewhat of a bully-magnet, really," Snape said wryly.

"I understand," Harry said suddenly, and Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Well…that is, er…my cousin, sir, he's…a lot bigger than I am and he always used to bully me. He and his friends would play this game-they'd call it 'Harry Hunting.' I was smaller and faster, and I got pretty good at avoiding them by climbing up trees and stuff, but I couldn't always outsmart them, so…" Harry grimaced. "And then, of course, whenever anyone was nice to me at school, Dudley would threaten to beat them up, and so I never had any friends. It, uh…kind of sucked."

"I can imagine…" Severus said softly, and Harry was again struck by the sincerity in his voice. Severus was quiet for a while, now. He was quite pleased, and rather surprised, that Harry was opening up to him so quickly like this. He could go in two different directions, and he needed to tread carefully…

"Did your…well, did your Aunt and Uncle ever do anything to stop this?" Severus felt like a bastard after asking the question, and strained to keep his voice casual, not letting on that he knew the answer. After all, how could he explain that to Harry without the boy taking it badly? Could he even?

Harry sighed. "Well, no. They uh…they don't care for me much, actually. And of course Dudders is the little perfect boy in their bloody blind eyes." The bitterness in the boy's tone was tangible, and Severus smirked slightly.

"Language, Potter…" but before Harry could say anything, he said, "But to be fair, I suppose it sounds like they deserve worse language than that to color their names."

Harry smiled more widely at this. "Thanks, sir."

Snape nodded.

"Uh, guess I have to get to lunch or else Ron and Hermione'll worry about me. But, it's been er…well, I enjoyed talking with you, sir."

Severus nodded curtly.

Harry paused at the door, hand poised over the handle. He wasn't sure if he should ask this…would it mess everything up? But he had to know or else it would bug him to death… "Uh, sir? If you don't mind my asking…what changed?"

"Changed?" Severus looked genuinely interested.

"Yes, well…ever since you helped me that night you've been so…" He stopped, unable to find the words, but Snape helped him along, thankfully.

"I realized some things, Potter. I saw my blind spots and realized I would like to make up for them. As far as that is possible, that is."

"Sir?"

Severus sighed. Should he go ahead? He knew the boy wouldn't like hearing this, but Severus knew, now, that the boy held being told the truth to far higher standards than being protected and coddled. And so he started, slowly. "This is really a conversation for when we have more time, Potter, but in summation, as you know, your father and I never got along. To be frank, he made my life a living hell from day one. He and his friends formed a little gang and tormented me almost constantly, passing their hexes off as pranks. I defended myself, of course, but it was still four against one…and I, being a half-blood myself, wasn't popular enough in Slytherin to have many supporters to back me up."

"You're…you're half-blood?" Harry gaped at him.

Severus frowned. "No need to act so surprised. There are plenty of half-bloods in Slytherin. There are even a handful of Muggleborn students, though they, admittedly, often run into trouble with some of the older pureblood extremists our house tends to attract. It's unfortunate, but it's a vicious cycle. Slytherin's reputation has formed it to be as it is today. It isn't a house for dark wizards, but for those who think a certain way. Due to the pureblood fanaticism and Dark Lord scares, we've lost many of our would-be members to Ravenclaw, however. But know, Harry, that every one house is full of good and bad people, the same as any race or otherwise…"

"Yes, of course that makes sense." Harry was blushing. "It's so obvious, I feel…" He sighed, looking somewhat miserable, but Snape waved him off.

"You shouldn't fault yourself, Potter, for getting pulled into the general assumptions and prejudices this school never ceases to reinforce. I, myself, as you well know, am perhaps guilty of showing outward favoritism to Slytherin, as your house members constantly enjoy pointing out."

Harry raised an eyebrow, wondering where he was going with this.

"But you see, Potter, I do that because there is already an established prejudice against Slytherin students which makes them the black sheep of the school the instant they are sorted. I do my best to make them feel they have some sense of community, and to let them know that someone in this school has their best interests at heart."

Harry stared at him with a new level of respect as he processed the man's words. It had never occurred to him, but now that Snape pointed it out, it was obvious. A chill ran through Harry as he remembered how close he had been to being sorted into Slytherin. If he had never met Ron, would he have been treated like a Dark Wizard simply because the Sorting Hat directed him to one table over the other? Harry's mind was spinning, and he decided he needed to think on this more, later. "That…makes sense, sir," Harry simply said softly. "I think you're doing the right thing. Everyone needs someone they feel is trustworthy."

Snape regarded him in silence before smirking slightly. _I wonder if Potter will eat his words when I turn them on him?_

"To be honest, Potter, the separation of houses is a problem in the first place…"

Harry noticed he sounded unaccountably bitter and suddenly, an intriguing thought occurred to him. Something that just might shine some more light on the enigmatic Potions Master.

"Um, sir? If you don't mind my asking, was there…someone you er, wanted to be in the same house with but…weren't able to be?"

Snape froze at this unexpected leap of perception. He hesitated, wondering how much he should say, but then sighed and gave in. If he wanted Potter to open up to him, he would do best to be as open as possible, and painful as it was for him to talk about this particular topic, he had to admit that Potter did have the right to know…some of it, at least. "Actually, yes. That was…what convinced me of my views on this point. You see," he sighed, "I was separated from my best friend…and unfortunately, our friendship never recovered after a disastrous day in our fifth year."

"That's awful! But what could have been so bad that it could have ruined a friendship like that?"

"Maybe you'll be able to figure it out," he said wryly. "She…my best friend…was the only person I can truly say I've ever really cared about. We met when we were 8. I…didn't have the happiest home life. I'll leave it at that for now, but leaving home to play with this girl was like a paradise island amidst the stormy ocean of my life. I noticed her magic and was the first person to tell her she was a witch."

"She was muggleborn, then?"

"Yes. Anyway, she made my life more than it ever had been before. She had an incredible capacity to love and to enjoy life. She taught me how to enjoy each day, rather than fear the next. We were so excited to go to Hogwarts…we rode together on the train. And then…she was sorted into Gryffindor."

Harry frowned. Considering the animosity between Gryffindor and Slytherin, that definitely could have caused problems, but it sounded like the Professor really cared for this girl. If so, how could their friendship have fallen apart?

"What happened, sir? You stayed friends through most of school, then?"

"Yes. Again, I didn't have many friends in my own house, and Li-my friend and I continued to meet and study together in the library. We were, of course, the objects of plenty of school gossip and ill-intentioned rumors, but we endured. We were both strong in potions and always sat together in class. We even won an award together…but…" Severus sighed and Harry bit his lip.

"I was weak. My friend had other friends, and…she was very popular. The Marauders, in particular, were always after her attention. I…perhaps in spite of a misguided attempt to prove my own independence to her, I accepted when some of my Slytherin dorm mates offered me the seeming olive branch of their friendship. In truth, it was one of the worst mistakes of my life."

"But-but that's understandable. I mean, you're always with your house, so trying to just not be friends with any of them is…"

Snape grimaced. "Well, looking back on it, I'd change it in an instant if I could."

"But…what happened in fifth year?"

"I…snapped. I was already made to feel helpless and worthless at home. Dealing with Potter at school on top of that…I was angry. And bitter. And she tried to stop them and I…resented her for it, because I thought it only made me seem weaker in front of everyone, and especially Potter, who fancied her himself…"

Harry gasped, realization dawning.

"I called her an unforgivable word. I will…never forgive myself for that. If only I could return to that day…I didn't mean it. I respected her more than anyone, for god's sakes. But this is my cross to bear."

Harry leaned closer to Severus and stared at him as if he'd never seen him before, an odd emotion glinting in his eye before saying, slowly, "Your best friend…was my mum, right?"

Slowly, Snape nodded, and a torrent of emotions welled up in Harry's chest.

"Thank you…for telling me, Professor."

Severus blinked and watched him with a curious expression in his eyes.

Harry smiled and shrugged. "No one's…well, no one has really ever told me much about my mum. It's always been superficial stuff about my dad, and how he was a chaser in quidditch…Professor, you just told me more about my mum than anyone ever has before and…I appreciate it."

His smile was so genuine, that Severus couldn't help return it slightly.

"So, mum was good in potions, was she?"

"She was brilliant," he whispered, his throat oddly tight.

"I see. I guess Slughorn mentioned that, come to think of it. Well, guess I didn't get her brains in that department," Harry said, somewhat sadly.

"That's…not necessarily true, Harry."

"Huh?"

"I…am aware that I sabotaged your experience in potions. I was cruel to you from your first day. I practically doomed you to perform miserably, when, in fact, you aren't bad when you aren't distracted. Put in a little extra effort and I'm sure you will be fine…but," Severus narrowed his eyes slightly. "Slughorn informs me you're a right little prodigy in his class. You wouldn't have an explanation for this, would you?"

"Uh, no sir. I'm just using my textbook," Harry said hurriedly.

"Ah. May I see it?"

"Wh-what? I don't have it with me, Professor," Harry fibbed wildly.

Before he could do anything else, Severus had wandlessly (and wordlessly) summoned his book. Harry watched in horror as he opened it and began to flick through the pages.

Harry bit his lip as he waited, but Severus' face seemed more…amused than anything else.

"Mr. Potter."

"Y-yes?" Harry squeaked out.

"I just might let you keep this temporarily, though I suggest you get a different book for in-class usage…if you can figure out a little puzzle on your own."

"Sir?"

"Who did this book belong to?"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "Well, according to the year…well, that's my mum and dad's year so…your year, Professor, right?"

Snape nodded.

"Half-blood prince…" _Well, okay, a half-blood, but I don't know anyone in their class except for him and my parents, but he wouldn't be so amused if it wasn't something personal, right? Well…_and then it hit him. A stroke of inspiration as he stared at the somewhat familiar writing. "Sir? Was your mum a muggle, or your dad?"

"My father," Severus spat, and Harry looked up, feeling guilty for having mentioned it, but then pressed on. "And your mother's last name…it wasn't Prince, was it?"

Harry then received the shock of the first true smile he had seen on his grouchy potion master's face.

"Well deduced, Mr. Potter. Much faster than I would have believed possible for you mere days ago."

"Uh, thanks sir," he said, only slightly put-off by the backhanded complement, "But…so you're the half-blood Prince? Really?"

Severus chuckled at his excitement. "I suppose I am."

"That's…I mean, that's incredible, sir! I just…I mean, your methods are much better for potion-making, and they make sense and there are some really useful spells in the margins-"

Suddenly, Severus' expression darkened, and he slammed the book shut. "Are you an idiot, Potter?" He hissed.

"Uh, wh-what?"

"You actually tried those spells without knowing what they did first?"

"Well…well…but you made them, right sir? So they must be-"

"I"ll have you know, Mr. Potter, that I am totally innocent, nor was I when I was a student! There are several incredibly dangerous spells in here, if I remember, and I believe I conveniently forgot to write down their counter curses!"

Harry looked embarrassed and slightly sick at the thought. "Oh…like, curses that could kill?"

"Absolutely. This curse, Potter," and Snape flicked to a page half-way through. "This is _sectumsempra."_

"Oh, yeah. I read that. 'For enemies.' I kind of guessed that might not be totally innocent, but-"

"You are an idiot, Potter. But I, it seems, was quite an idiot, too, to have written this down so casually in my textbook without any privacy charms." He grimaced. "This spell, which I was so proud of myself for designing, calls up a slough of invisible swords to instantly slice up whatever-or whoever-you ask it to. It could cut off a limb, cut an object, or slice a human body to bits. Do you understand what I'm saying? Do not use this flippantly. It will usually lead to instant death of one's opponent, or a delayed one by blood loss. Beware if you are not sure how you want your opponent to end up."

Harry gulped. "S-Sure, sir. Thanks for…warning me."

Severus scowled a little but nodded. He then cast a quick tempus and said, "Well, seems I've almost made you miss lunch after all, Mr. Potter. If you'd like, I could call some food for us here, and you can just tell Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger that I had you clean every cauldron in the dungeons for spite."

Harry chuckled. "I'm sure they'll be fine. I'll see them next class anyway. But sure, lunch would be great."

The two discussed lighter topics over club sandwiches and crisps and it seemed too soon when Harry packed his bags and went to the door for a second time.

"Thanks again, Professor Snape. I…had a really nice time talking with you. Er, maybe we could…do this again?" Harry blushed. "I mean…if you wouldn't mind sometime telling me more about my mum or…"

"Understood, Mr. Potter. You may stop by during your free periods. If I'm not in my office, knock on the portrait of the three Desert Cobras-that's the entrance to my personal chambers. I'm usually in one place or the other. Otherwise, if you would rather wait until after the weekend, you may expect me to arrange a meeting with you."

"Sir?"

"Professor Dumbledore," he couldn't stop himself from biting out the name, Harry noticed, "would like me to take some greater responsibility for your education. Though I don't disagree with him that you need to be able to defend yourself better than at present..."

"So like…you'll be teaching me something?" Harry couldn't stop the grimace which made its way onto his face as memories of the excruciating occlumency lessons came back to him.

Severus noted the boy's expression and said, "I would like to help you with occlumency to a certain extent, but I would also like to work with you on high-level Defense spells. Try not to worry, Potter. We will determine the best course for you in our first meeting, which you should expect on Tuesday after dinner."

Harry's face brightened significantly at the thought of extra Defense, though that didn't stop his gut from squirming unpleasantly at the thought of occlumency.

"Ah, and Potter. It would be best to keep quiet about our lessons. If you must, you may tell your friends Weasley and Granger that you are taking extra courses as dictated by the headmaster, but leave it at that if you will."

"Sure, sir. I'll do that." Making his way to the door, Harry turned back and smiled once again. "Thanks again for, er…well, everything." He then gave him a slightly cheeky grin, causing Snape to raise an eyebrow. "I'll see you tomorrow, Professor! Hope the chicken scratch doesn't give you a headache!" He winked, indicating the mountain of student papers Snape still had to work through.

Severus mock groaned and then growled out "Insufferable brat! Get to class!"

Chuckling, and feeling lighter than he had in a while, Harry waved before shutting the door and began to race down the corridor. He only managed to school his expression to the morose and sullen features expected after him having spent so long in the potion master's dungeon upon entering his History of Magic classroom.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading! Please drop me a review if you have a minute! I appreciate it so much!<p>

Thanks again and let me know what you think! Did Sev open up too much, too quickly? Was it too OOC to have him giving Harry points in class? Even so few as 2.5? The plot will thicken in the coming chapters! :) Keep reading and reviewing!

tess4aria


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